


Mutiny on the Boosh

by A_Little_Boosh_Maid



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anachronism Stew, Boats and Ships, Crossdressing, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Nautical cliches, Pirates, References to Canon, References to multiple other works, Sexual Harassment, Vaguely Historical, Workplace Relationship, comedy violence, queer romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-05-12 02:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19219762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Little_Boosh_Maid/pseuds/A_Little_Boosh_Maid
Summary: Captain Howard Moon wasn't looking for a cabin boy when he went down to the pier that night, but he found one anyway, a boy by the name of Vince Noir. Together they set sail for adventures on Captain Moon's ship, "The Boosh". Written for Bringing Back the Boosh from a prompt given by Noel and Julian, who always wanted to do this because Julian looks like Errol Flynn and Noel looks great dressed as a cabin boy.A huge debt of gratitude to my fantastic betas, BobSkeleton and walkwithursus, who were generous, thorough, and extremely kind. It's not going too far to say that without them, the first chapter may never have been finished or published.





	1. Captain's Fancy

Ahoy, mateys! Let me share with you a stirring tale of the high seas that will surely shiver your timbers and blister your barnacles. If you're ready, gather round ... not you, Naan Bread! Now, if everyone has got their listening ears on, I want you all to be as quiet as Amy Fieldmouse and just as pretty, as I begin the story ...

******************************************************************

Captain Howard Moon was a rough, tough, jolly sort of fellow. Everyone recognised him by his rolltop jumper under a peacoat, his messy brown curls, and his moustache. Captain Moon loved the life of the sea, and when he wasn't at sea, he loved to hang out down by the pier where the men dressed as ladies.

Captain Moon was down by the pier now, checking out the talent, but they weren't much chop tonight. Two of them hadn't even bothered shaving off their beards, and he was pretty sure one of them was a woman – and what kind of man wants a woman dressed as a man pretending to be a woman? A pretty bloody confused one, Captain Moon thought to himself. He was a simple old-fashioned gent who liked men to shave their beards before popping on a frock, and didn't want any downstairs mix-ups when he lifted their frocks and took them up against the sea wall.

Captain Moon began walking back to his ship, feeling rather less jolly, when he was accosted by a pointy-faced blond boy in a red and white striped jersey, olive trousers, and a green canvas jacket.

"Please, sir", began the boy.

"Away with you, lad", said Captain Moon with an impatient wave. "I'm not in the mood for it now, and you're not really my type".

"No, you berk ... I'm seeking a position on a ship. I'm willing to start at the bottom as a cabin boy, and work my way up".

"A cabin boy, eh?", said Captain Moon with a thoughtful look at him. "How old are you?".

"I'm ... er ... twenty", the boy said uncertainly.

"That's far too old to be a cabin boy", Captain Moon said curtly. "You've missed your chance".

"Well, how old are cabin boys?".

"They usually start at around twelve or thirteen".

"That's perfect. I'm twelve, turning thirteen next month", the boy said eagerly.

"You're never twelve", Captain Moon said with certainty. "What's your real age?".

"Sixteen?", suggested the boy hopefully.

Captain Moon looked the boy over closely. Sixteen didn't seem too unbelievable. The boy was small and slim, his cheeks untouched by a razor, and he had a naive look in his large blue eyes. He probably was around sixteen or thereabouts.

"You just scrape in", said Captain Moon. "What's your name, lad? Roger?".

"No, sir. My name's Vince Noir", the boy said with a confused expression.

"Really? Because I'm looking for Roger the cabin boy, if you get my drift, lad".

"But my name's Vince".

"Yes, but I want a good Roger, do you understand me, boy?".

"Sorry, I'm Vince. You must be thinking of someone else".

Captain Moon sighed. The boy wasn't too quick on the uptake, but beggars couldn't afford to be choosers. He decided that Vince must be more innocent than the usual cabin boy he encountered, and to proceed accordingly.

"Welcome aboard, lad", Captain Moon said with a hearty handshake. "I'm Captain Howard Moon, master and commander of that mighty vessel, _The Boosh_. Come and meet your new shipmates, for we set sail on the dawn tide".

"Thank you sir", said the boy, picking up a big bag.

"Stuttering starfish, that's landlubber talk", said Captain Moon roughly. "It's _Aye aye, Captain!_ ".

"Aye aye, Captain!", repeated the boy obediently.

"So what made you sign on as a cabin boy?", Captain Moon asked Vince as he led him to where the good ship _Boosh_ was berthed.

"I'm running away to sea", said Vince determinedly.

"Trouble at home?", asked Captain Moon, not without sympathy.

"Yes sir – I mean, aye aye, Captain", answered Vince.

"Good lad", said Captain Moon approvingly. "That's how a man deals with his problems – he runs away from them. Never forget Vince, there's no trouble that can't be avoided by just turning your back on it and running like hell. That's the Law of the Sea".

*****************************************************************

"This is the First Mate, Bob Fossil. Picked him up in Nantucket".

Captain Moon pointed to a pudgy man with curly brown hair whose pale blue sailor's uniform was too small for him, so that buttons strained over his soft belly.

"I was on one of those floaty things that try to stick a fork in the big fishies filled with oil", said the first mate in a soft, babyish New England accent.

"A whaling ship?", queried Vince.

"Yeah".

"And this is the rest of the crew, Able Seaman Naboo and Very Ordinary Seaman Bollo. I picked them up ... well they're not from around here".

Naboo was a tiny olive-skinned man who looked like he might be even younger than Vince; he wore a colourful Arabic costume. Bollo was a gorilla. Not a gorilla in the sense of a big hulking man, a gorilla in the sense that he was a gorilla.

"Crew, meet Vince. He's my new cabin boy, and he's willing to work his way up from the bottom".

"You mean you'll be working up his bottom, more like", said Naboo in a scornful Cockney lisp.

"I got a bad feeling about this", intoned Bollo gloomily.

"Hi Vincey", said Bob brightly. "You can call me Bobby Bob Bob".

"Ignore that", ordered Captain Moon. "Address him at all times as Mr Fossil, and keep a civil tongue in your head".

"Aye aye, Captain", said Vince.

"Well Vince, now that I've attended to the pleasantries, come with me to my quarters, and I'll start teaching you your duties", said Captain Moon. "Crew, prepare the ship to set sail at four bells tomorrow".

"Yeah whatever, Howard", said Naboo, taking out his hookah.

Captain Moon turned to leave, and Vince timidly tapped him on the shoulder.

"Er, sir? I mean, Captain? You've got something on your back".

Captain Moon ripped the piece of paper that had been pinned to his peacoat and looked sternly upon his wayward crew.

"Right, now which one of you did this?", he demanded, but there were only snickers in reply.

Vince looked at the piece of paper in Captain Moon's hand.

CABIN BOY BUMMER, it read.

************************************************************************

"I hope we can forge a friendly yet professional working relationship moving forward, Vince", said Captain Moon, at the end of a very long lecture that had droned on for what seemed like hours. "Remember, I don't think of you as my cabin boy, but as my apprentice. I'll be imparting all my valuable knowledge to you as I train you in your daily tasks".

"What kind of tasks?", yawned Vince.

"Oh you know ... doing my laundry, emptying the bilge, fetching and carrying, taking messages, making tea, bringing me my sextant, and so forth".

"Get stuffed, I'm not doing all that – I'm only a cabin boy!", protested Vince.

"Think of yourself as my personal assistant. And of course, as my cabin boy, it will be your primary duty to keep my cabin clean and tidy at all times. I'll be making spot checks, surprise inspections – you never know when I'll suddenly leap out and demand that we do an emergency bed-making drill, just to keep you on your toes. But as this is Orientation Week, I'll go easy on you at first".

Captain Moon gave a chuckle and ruffled Vince's blond hair affectionately.

"Geroff, I don't like people messing with my hair", said Vince peevishly.

"Anyway Vince, I'll just leave you to peruse the literature I've given you while I go and inspect the crew. It's a tough job being the master of men – you have to be as hard on yourself as you are on them, otherwise they won't respect you. Remember that when you captain your own ship".

Captain Moon departed, humming _The Sailor's Hornpipe_ to himself.

Vince looked aghast at all the photocopied sheets of paper Captain Moon had given him to read. There were watch schedules, tidal charts, astronomical charts, a map of their prospective route. Occupational Health and Safety pamphlets, with titles like, _Safety at Sea Begins With You_ , _Naval Doctors Now Recommend No More Than Three Units of Rum Per Day_ , _Say Goodbye to Scurvy_ , and _Hello Sailor!: A Guide to Venereal Diseases and How to Treat Them_. The Human Resources pamphlet explained that any cases of workplace bullying or sexual harassment should be dealt with by the ship's captain, and that nobody would be keel hauled or flogged for speaking up.

There was a daily schedule for the ship – meals were at six bells, eight bells, and four bells, with light snacks at five bells and seven bells. Morning exercise was from one to three bells, while evening recreation started at six bells. Bedtime was at five bells sharp, but there was an afternoon nap at four bells.

Wait – how could the afternoon nap and dinner be on at the same time, and why were they going to bed during the morning snack?, Vince wondered. Where was that list explaining all the times in bells? Didn't anyone wear a bloody watch on board ship? Feverishly he looked through the table of bell times, until it all made sense. The whole thing seemed needlessly complicated.

There were weekly schedules too. There was Jazz Night every Wednesday (Vince groaned), Bingo on Fridays, Games Night on Saturdays, and Book Club on Sundays (Vince groaned even more). On Mondays, the captain gave lectures on seamanship – a note said these were compulsory. Bleeding heck, this was worse than school!

Tuesday was Movie Night, which sounded alright, until Vince saw the list of films they would be watching. It began with _In the Wake of the Bounty_ and _The Cruel Sea_ , went through to _Moby Dick_ , _A High Wind in Jamaica_ , _20 000 Leagues Under the Sea_ , _The Poseidon Adventure_ , and _Captains Courageous_ , and finished with _Titanic_ and _Cast Away_. Thursday was the weekly staff meeting, which took up that night's recreation time. Everyone knows that's just bullshit.

Then there were the books he was expected to read, and in some cases, memorise. A copy of the semaphore and phonetic alphabets. Morse Code handbook. Dictionary of Nautical Terms. The Law of the Sea. Ship Spotters Guide. The Old Salt's Almanac. And – oh no! Vince also had to read Captain Moon's memoirs, _An Ocean of Moonlight_ , and the next volume, _A Life on the Open Wave_. He had a horrible feeling there would be upcoming tests on these particular works.

********************************************************************

Five bells rung out, and Captain Moon came back to his cabin.

"Bedtime, Vince", said Captain Moon firmly. "We've got an early start tomorrow".

"Where are my quarters, Captain?", asked Vince, getting into his jim-jams.

"Well you're my cabin boy, so you sleep in my cabin", explained Captain Moon.

"You mean, I have to sleep with you?", Vince asked.

"I can't have you sleeping with rough men and apes, Vince", said Captain Moon. "You're a vulnerable young boy – you need my protection. Now hop into bed, quick sticks".

There was only one bed in the cabin, a big double bed with a satin coverlet. Vince looked at it warily, but Captain Moon lifted the valance of the coverlet, and pulled out a truckle bed, so that Vince could sleep in it. He showed Vince a cupboard where he could find pillows, sheets, and blankets, and helped him to make up the truckle bed.

"Goodnight, Vince", said Captain Moon, climbing into the big bed in his blue striped pyjamas.

"'Night, Captain", said Vince.

Vince could feel the sea rocking beneath the ship, and felt very aware that he was in bed on the water. It didn't feel secure. He felt small and lonely in the dark cabin, and had an embarrassing desire to sniffle.

"Feeling homesick?", asked Captain Moon kindly. He was apparently highly-attuned to the emotions of others.

"Not exactly", said Vince carefully.

"Don't worry, Vince – on my first night as a cabin boy, I bawled my eyes out for my Mam".

"I don't have a mum, or a dad", said Vince.

"What do you have instead?".

"Do you know anything about the foster care system?".

"Not really", admitted Captain Moon.

"In that case, I grew up in a magical forest with a famous pop star for a foster-dad. That's why I can talk to animals", said Vince.

"That will come in very useful on the sea", said Captain Moon encouragingly. "Have you been to school at all, Vince?".

"Yeah, but I never finished my GCSEs. To tell you the truth, I'm a bit thick".

"The GCSEs aren't that important, Vince", Captain Moon assured him. "And some of the best sailors I've ever had were really thick – it takes a very stupid man to demonstrate true courage, because he doesn't think about the consequences. I bet you're really brave, aren't you?".

"I think I could be brave", said Vince. "So you started off as a cabin boy too, Captain?".

"Yes, I was thirteen years old, and on my first night I didn't think I'd last a week – I got seasick before we even left port! But here I am, many years later, captain of my own vessel", said Captain Moon.

"What was your captain like?", Vince wondered.

"I started out under Captain Tommy Nooka, master of _The Cheesy Dreamer_ ", replied Captain Moon. "He was the greatest sea captain that ever lived, and I am privileged to have been trained by the best".

"Where is Captain Nooka now?", Vince wanted to know.

"Oh, he was going around the Horn on his way to the North West Passage when he got trapped in the Horse Latitudes and ended up in the Bermuda Triangle".

"So ... he was mysteriously lost and never seen again?".

"No, he got eaten by a sea monster", said Captain Moon in surprise, as if this should have been obvious. "The Bermuda Triangle is full of them. I do miss my old mentor, but at least Tommy went the way he always wanted to".

"What – being munched like a Twix by an eldritch abomination?".

"He died at sea, Vince, in full command of his capacities, and went fearlessly to his doom", said Captain Moon proudly. "I'll never forget all the wisdom and sea lore he imparted to me. Dolphins are evil, that was one of his teachings. He also told me that we all die, but in death are we granted our greatest chance to be a hero. Tommy saved his entire crew before he was eaten".

"It's weird that you were a cabin boy too", said Vince. "It's like, we're both boys really – you're just ... older, Captain".

"Vince, just for tonight, you can call me Howard", said Captain Moon gently. "Forget about me being your captain, and think of us as two cabin boys in the same quarters, offering each other friendship and comfort".

"Okay, Cap- ... I mean, okay, Howard", replied Vince, the young cabin boy.

"Good lad", said Howard, the much older cabin boy. "Are you ready to go to sleep now, Vince?".

"Yeah, except .... Howard, can I sleep with you? I'm cold down here on the floor, and it would feel much friendlier and more comforting if we were in the same bed".

"Well ... okay, Vince", said Howard, helping Vince to climb in beside him. "Just for this once. But you have to stay on your own side of the bed – that's The Law of the Sea".

"Stuff The Law of the Sea", said Vince sleepily. "I'm cold, and in the ... forest ... we all used to snuggle together at night to keep warm. I mean, me and all the wild animals did".

Vince rolled himself against Howard's chest, and tucked his head into his shoulder. After a bit of hesitation, Howard put his arms around Vince to keep his back warm and pulled the blankets firmly around him. After all, he was a vulnerable young boy who needed protection.

"You comfy there, Vince?", Howard whispered.

But there was no answer. Vince had fallen asleep the instant he was safe in Howard's arms. Howard relaxed into the hug, his nose pressed into Vince's hair. It smelt of strawberries, and suddenly Howard was a child again, looking for wild strawberries in the woods. He could taste them ... the first berries of the season, the beginning of summer, the smell of the seaside town his parents took him to on holiday, the first whiff of the ocean that had been the beginning of him wanting to go to sea.

Howard felt his toes scrunch in the sand, heard the gulls screech and call above him, the blue of the sky meeting the darker hues of the sea ... The rigging creaked, and the sea rocked him to sleep, as it had for so many nights before.

*******************************************************************

When Howard woke the next morning, Vince was wrapped right around him, his leg hooked over Howard's hip, drooling softly into his neck. Howard found himself in an embarrassing predicament, and he shook Vince awake urgently.

"Vince, wake up – you have to get out of bed. Now, do you hear me? Er, I need to be left alone for a little while, okay?".

Vince opened his eyes, and gave them a rub. What was the emergency? The he saw, or rather, felt, what Howard was going on about.

"Howard you berk, that's just a stiffy. Everyone gets those in the morning. I've got one too".

He snuggled back into Howard, and if he did so in such a manner that he could feel Howard's stiffy nestled against his own, then nobody needs to hear about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story begins inside a Monty Python sketch called "Story Time", where Eric Idle reads a children's story about a rough, tough, jolly sea captain who likes hanging around the pier where men dress as ladies. It then veers into Captain Pugwash, urban legends, and pretty much any nautical story that suited my purposes.
> 
> Vince and Howard's ages are ambiguous, but in my mind, Vince is in his early 20s and Howard in his 40s. You are free to believe Vince is literally 16 if you want, with no judgement from me, but I don't find Vince very reliable when it comes to his age. Noel really did look about 16 when he was 23. Howard is old enough to be a ship's captain, and to have written two volumes of memoirs. I don't think he could be any younger than 35, and probably no older than 50. Adjust their ages in your own minds as you see fit.
> 
> SHIP'S BELLS
> 
> One Bell = 12.30 am, 4.30 am, 8.30 am, 12.30 pm, 4.30 pm, 8.30 pm  
> Two Bells = 1 am, 5 am, 9 am, 1 pm, 5 pm, 9 pm  
> Three Bells = 1.30 am, 5.30 am, 9.30 am, 1.30 pm, 5.30 pm, 9.30 pm  
> Four Bells = 2 am, 6 am, 10 am, 2 pm, 6 pm, 10 pm  
> Five Bells = 2.30 am, 6.30 am, 10.30 am, 2.30 pm, 6.30 pm, 10.30 pm  
> Six Bells = 3 am, 7 am, 11 am, 3 pm, 7 pm, 11 pm  
> Seven Bells = 3.30 am, 7.30 am, 11.30 am, 3.30 pm, 7.30 pm, 11.30 pm  
> Eight Bells = 4 am, 8 am, 12 midday, 4 pm, 8 pm, 12 midnight 
> 
> I'm using the simplified version to avoid making many, many more footnotes. The reason wrist-watches weren't useful on board in a pre-digital age is, of course, because a ship may pass through several time zones during a voyage. The time is always set by the captain each midday, using a sextant. 
> 
> So breakfast is at 7 am, exercise from 8.30 to 9.30 am, morning tea at 10.30 am, lunch at midday, afternoon nap at 2 pm, afternoon tea at 3.30 pm, dinner at 6 pm, evening recreation at 7 pm, and bed at 10.30 pm.


	2. Training Montage, With Music!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All about life on board "The Boosh". The chapter ended up way fluffier than I originally planned. I must say that my wonderful betas had nothing to do with this chapter, as I was too embarrassed to show it to anyone, so none of it is their fault.

Vince had been cabin boy on _The Boosh_ for a month now, and he still didn't know if he liked it or not. There was a lot of work to do every day, and Howard was a hard taskmaster – any ideas Vince might have had that a little morning cuddle was going to make Howard go easier on him proved to be completely illusory. Howard liked things done properly, he had an eye for detail, and would make Vince perform each task over and over again until he was satisfied.

After being told to swab the deck for the third time on the first morning, Vince was just about ready to throw the bucket of dirty water in Howard's face, he was so frustrated.

"Well that's certainly better", said Howard at last. "Perhaps tomorrow you could remember to polish the brasswork as well. And these ropes all need to be re-coiled".

"Get stuffed, Howard", said Vince in a rage. "I'm not your bleeding dogsbody".

"No, you are my cabin boy, which means you will obey my orders without question, and you will address me as 'Captain' at all times", said Howard sternly.

"Sorry Howard, but the rest of the crew all call you Howard", explained Vince.

"Shuddering sharks! And if the rest of the crew all jumped off the bridge, I suppose you would too?", demanded Howard crossly.

"Well ... yeah, I would", said Vince. "I'm part of the crew, and I have to fit in with them. I'll never make friends if they think I'm sucking up to you".

Howard made an angry gesture, and told Vince to do his laundry, quick sticks, before storming off.

Howard might not like it, but it was really impossible for Vince to go back to calling him 'Captain Moon' once he'd called him 'Howard' and they'd spent all night in each other's arms. They could do nothing else but be on a first name basis after that.

And Vince spent every night after that in Howard's bed too. Howard could tell Vince that he had his own perfectly good truckle bed on the floor and that it was highly inappropriate for him to share a bed permanently with a cabin boy; Vince just looked at him with pleading eyes, and said he felt cold and lonely on his own, and it was easier for them to talk if they were in the same bed.

"Go on, Howard", he'd beg, until Howard gave in and lifted the covers so Vince could slide under them and snuggle up.

Howard was well used to taking someone from behind against a seawall, and whatever else he might have done with a willing cabin boy in the past, he had certainly never _slept_ with any of them. He didn't really hold with soppiness, considering that it wasn't very manly behaviour, and whatever else Howard was, he was definitely a man's man.

Yet Howard found himself enjoying having Vince cuddled in his arms, and once he actually kissed Vince on the top of his blond head without thinking. He was shocked, and decided he must be going soft in his old age. He'd heard about this sort of thing – captains getting unnaturally attached to their cabin boys – and he would be scorned and sneered at if this ever got about. Howard considered putting Vince ashore at the next port of call, but he never did. He didn't think Vince would be safe by himself in a strange country, and it would be too lonely at night without him.

And why did Vince's hair smell of strawberries? Was it his shampoo, Howard wondered, or did he naturally smell of wild strawberries in the depths of a cool forest on an early summer's morning? Howard surreptitiously put his nose in Vince's hair, and drew in a breath, filling his lungs with the most heavenly aroma on earth.

Howard was definitely getting soppy. Proper men didn't go around sniffing hair and dreaming of strawberry picking in their childhood, he was pretty sure.

*************************************************************

Recreation nights weren't as bad as Vince had been fearing. Sure, Jazz Night was pure hell, and Howard's lectures were even more boring than he thought they would be. But Bingo and Games Night was fun; he'd already won a new pair of sea boots at Bingo, and on the last Games Night, had ended up intertwined with Howard playing Twister, his face almost in Howard's groin. He'd had Bollo sitting on his chest, otherwise he might have tried stretching his neck just a little more.

Movie Night was better than expected; films about the sea now seemed relevant to his life on board ship, and the nautical disasters a reminder how careful you needed to be. Safety at sea began with him, after all. After watching _In the Wake of the Bounty_ , Vince thought Howard looked just like Errol Flynn, they were tall and handsome in the same dashing way, and they both had a moustache. He asked Howard if they could get some more Errol Flynn films for the trip home.

Book Club was surprisingly engaging. Vince had never done very well in English classes at school, being a slow reader and an uncertain speller, but found that he had plenty to talk about when discussing each book. Howard would encourage everyone to speak up, and ask them all questions that got them to think about what they had read, and in doing so Vince discovered things in the story he had missed, and even learned a few things about himself.

Vince was still a slow reader, but Howard had got into the habit of reading to him each night while they were in bed, and Vince loved being tucked up under the blankets and hearing the story in Howard's deep voice with his soft Yorkshire accent. Howard would explain any difficult words and the relevance of certain plot elements, and was able to bring every story to life, until Vince wondered if he would have done better at school if he'd slept with his teachers.

So far they had read _Three Men in a Boat_ , _Swallows and Amazons_ , and _Treasure Island_ , and were currently reading _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ , which filled Vince's head with magic and wonder that was like an endless light, or a musical note that went on forever. Howard said they would be reading _The Sea Wolf_ next, and getting their teeth into something more solid.

Howard closed the book just as a dazzlingly beautiful girl had pointed towards the approaching dawn, and said "Good night, Vince". He leaned over as if he was going to brush his lips against Vince's cheek, but instead he fiddled with the blankets, smoothing them out.

"Night Howard", said Vince, lightly pressing his own lips against Howard's cheek.

Howard looked almost shocked, but didn't say anything. Unconsciously his finger moved to the place where Vince had kissed him, and he gave Vince a nervous smile. That night, Howard held Vince in his arms a little more tenderly than usual.

*************************************************************

Vince had soon distinguished himself during the morning exercise regime, for he could climb the rigging like a monkey, and had a good head for heights. There was no part of the ship that he couldn't climb in a few minutes, and although thin and bony, was strong enough to do chin lifts on the bowsprit, hauling himself up unassisted.

Howard praised him, and invited Vince to join him doing weight training on deck, because a sailor needs to have powerful arms. Vince saw that Howard did indeed have hard, muscular biceps, and could lift a staggering amount of weight.

"Come on Vince, keep it up", barked Howard. "You need to build up those candyfloss girl arms a bit more".

"Piss off, Popeye", said Vince lazily, lifting at the same easy pace. "We don't all want to be muscle-bound freaks".

"Popeye was an excellent sailor", said Howard calmly. "He was strong, brave, clever, and resourceful – a man of honour. You could have a worse role model".

"Do you reckon you could lift _me_?", Vince asked.

"Easily", said Howard, "if you lie over my chest so can I raise you up".

Vince lay face up across Howard's chest, and was soon being lifted in the air, Howard's strong hands grasping his shoulders and thighs. Howard lifted him five times before gently placing him back across his chest. Vince slid off Howard in a graceful gesture, and gave him a grin.

"You're well strong, Howard", he said admiringly.

The ship was now travelling through warm seas under blue skies, and everyone went swimming for their morning exercise, except for the crew member who was on watch duty at that hour.

Vince watched as everyone shucked off their clothes down to their pants, and then he did the same. He took a glance at Howard, who had a manly physique under his clothing, rippling with scarred and weatherbeaten muscle from a lifetime spent on ships. Blimey, he looks like Tarzan, Vince thought, noticing that Howard's little blue pants left his plump firm arse cheeks exposed.

Howard poised on the deck for a moment before taking a perfect dive into the water, landing with barely a splash. Vince threw himself wildly from the railing, landing in the water right near Howard, and splashing him with the wave he created.

"That's enough, you little titbox", said Howard with a grin, pushing Vince under the water until he squealed.

They swam two laps around the ship, and then Vince rode on Howard's shoulders as he cut through the water, telling him he was a porpoise. Bollo agreed to be another porpoise, and Vince and Naboo rode their faux cetaceans until Howard and Bollo threatened to throw them both off. The race was declared a draw.

Morning exercise had just got a lot more interesting, Vince decided, shaking water from his hair. 

***************************************************************

Before retiring for the night, Howard would serve supper, which was a mug of cocoa and a plate of chocolate biscuits. This was not listed amongst the regulation meals of the ship, which gave the crew the pleasant feeling that they were doing something slightly naughty. Every night before bed, Howard led them in the singing of the ship's song, which he had written himself.

_We sail on the sloop The Boosh_  
_The waves all go sloosh_  
_Around the seas we do roam_  
_Sleeping all night_  
_Tucked up safe and tight_  
_I feel so comfy_  
_I never want to go home_

_So hoist up The Boosh's sail_  
_Our voyages never fail_  
_And the Captain has organised jazz_  
_To play Wednesday night_  
_Book Club's pure delight_  
_I feel so grateful_  
_The Boosh is my home_

There were several more verses, explaining how beloved the captain was, and how Naboo made a great chili stew, and Bob was the best bingo caller in history, and Bollo was always a big help setting up the projector for Movie Night. Howard had even added an extra verse to say that Vince was working very hard as his cabin boy, would make a fine sailor, and no doubt become captain of his own ship one day.

If Howard was on watch duty at supper time, the crew substituted rum for the cocoa and hash brownies for the biscuits, and sang a much bawdier ship's song, which began:

_T'was on the good ship Boosh_  
_The Captain was a douche_  
_He fucked my bum_  
_Till it was numb_  
_And finished with a sploosh_

_Molested in the crow's nest,_ _molested in the crow's nest_  
_I was molested in the crow's nest, there was sod all I could do_

There were eighteen more verses, each one filthier than the last, and all involving the Captain committing obscene acts in the crows's nest. Vince felt disloyal singing dirty songs about Howard, but he had to fit in with the rest of the crew. Bob Fossil already teasingly called him "Captain's pet", and Naboo thought he could win any argument by concluding, "Oh get Howard's cock out of your arse and then maybe you'll talk some sense".

*****************************************************************

Vince was still not sure whether he really liked being a sailor when his turn for nightwatch came up. The work was hard, Howard was very fussy, and could be a sarky bastard when he wasn't happy, which was frequently. And Vince didn't really feel as the rest of the crew had accepted him; they saw him as an ignorant kid who needed to be broken in with plenty of ribbing and pranks, which got him into more trouble.

Fossil and Naboo in particular teased him about his relationship with Howard, making out that he was getting a nightly bumming from him, and when he protested that all they ever did was cuddle ... well, Fossil and Naboo crowed over him for some time after that, calling Howard "Captain Cuddles", and asking Vince if he wuvved snuggie time in the blankies, diddums? Fossil's baby voice was particularly irritating saying this. Naboo tended to give him smugly knowing looks out of his dark eyes, eloquently silent.

Now Vince had to stay up late when everyone else had gone to bed. He and Howard had been out on the deck looking at the stars; Howard was teaching him about the constellations, and had pointed out Vega, in the constellation Lyra, high above them, part of the Summer Triangle.

"It might be summer, but it's still cool at night, out on the water", said Vince, shivering into his jacket.

"Well, get used to it. You're on nightwatch".

"Nightwatch?", whined a horrified Vince.

"The sea is a dangerous place. Whatever you do, don't fall asleep", Howard told him, before heading off to his comfortable bed.

It had felt lonely out on deck by himself, just him on a small ship in the middle of the ocean under a vast darkness. But then Vince began enjoying the peaceful quiet, the twinkling stars in the night sky that now seemed like friends, the relaxing sound of the sea slapping against the ship's sides. Vince's head nodded down, and before he knew it, the sea had lulled him into a deep sleep.

It was Bollo who relieved him after midnight, and gently shook him, saying "Vince, wake up, not good to sleep on nightwatch".

Vince groaned a little as he opened his eyes.

"Bollo, I'm sorry – I've been asleep almost the whole time!".

"That okay, Vince precious flower", crooned Bollo. "Not tell Harold about this, or precious Vince get into trouble".

"You're genius, Bollo", said Vince, throwing his arms around the gorilla's neck. "Thanks".

To show his appreciation, Vince stayed awake with Bollo and kept him company on his watch, teaching him about all he'd learned about the stars.

"Um, there's Vegas, in the constipation Liar. That's part of the Summer Tricycle", Vince said knowledgeably.

He found out that Bollo was a huge Monkees fan, and they softly sang _Daydream Believer_ together before grooming each other. Eventually Vince fell asleep again, Bollo staunchly holding him so that precious Vince didn't get cold as the dawn approached, and later carrying him to Howard's cabin so Vince could get straight into bed.

That's how Vince finally made a friend on board ship, and after this, Bollo was his adoring protector. Whenever Fossil or Naboo tried to tease Vince after this, Bollo would threaten to hurt them, and if Howard ever scolded Vince, Bollo would growl, "Shut it, Harold. Precious Vince is a good boy. He doing his best".

"I won't be schooled by a Very Ordinary Seaman and a gorilla", complained Howard. "And my name isn't Harold!".

"Harold is a fool", said Bollo, giving Vince a wink. "I slap him in the face if you want".

****************************************************************

Every night Howard fell asleep with the smell of strawberries in his nostrils, and every morning he woke up with a raging stiffy. Until one morning, Vince slipped his hand into Howard's striped pyjama bottoms and expertly took care of it.

Christy, the little tart must have been turning tricks in St. Chad's Street, thought Howard, unless the foster care system is far more educational than I realised.

Then he stopped thinking anything much at all, until his pyjama bottoms were soaked, and Vince had a self-satisfied look on his face.

"Vince?", said Howard, the sweat on his brow making his brown curls look messier than ever.

"Yeah, Howard?".

"Come here. I want you in my mouth. Now", ordered Howard hoarsely.

"Aye aye, Captain", said Vince with a grin, pulling his jim-jams down.

*********************************************************************

Vince didn't taste of strawberries, but of something even better. More salt, more marine. A flavour that Howard thought might end up driving him mad, if he wasn't so already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Errol Flynn didn't have a moustache in his early film career – either Vince is thinking of later ones at that point, or in this universe, Flynn always had a moustache. I was painted into a bit of corner by Noel, who said Julian looked just like Errol Flynn in "Mutiny on the Bounty". Well, Flynn wasn't in a movie with that title – it's either Clark Gable or Marlon Brando. Flynn was in "In the Wake of the Bounty", and he doesn't have a moustache in that film, although he grew one later. So whatever Noel was thinking of, Vince is thinking.
> 
> The ship's songs are a parody and a pastiche of "The Sloop John B.", and "The Good Ship Venus" respectively. From the first one, you know that "The Boosh" is a sloop – a small, fast, agile sailing ship that can be handled by a very small crew. Five is perfectly workable, and in an emergency it could even be sailed by just two crew members. 
> 
> It was BobSkeleton who called Howard in Chapter 1 "Captain Cuddles", a joke far too good not to steal.


	3. Pirates of the Caribbean Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vince and Howard's cosy life aboard ship is shattered when they are attacked by pirates ... in the Caribbean! Thank you to BobSkeleton for beta-ing the first part of this story; I gave my betas a rest for a second part because ... well, you'll see.

Captain Howard Moon sat at his desk, trying to write. It was Vince's job to assist him in this task, and the cabin boy had done so willingly; sharpening pencils and bringing Howard a biro when he requested one. Vince had even thoughtfully made Howard a cup of tea, and put an ashtray on the desk for his pipe, because the captain liked to smoke as he wrote, believing it aided literary inspiration. The trouble was that with Vince there, Howard couldn't seem to write a word.

The weather had become very warm, and at the last port of call on Bermuda, Howard had given the whole crew shore leave. It hadn't been his intention, but when Bob, Naboo, and Bollo went into a dockside bar to do some hard drinking, Howard had taken Vince to lunch instead, knowing that he couldn't let an impressionable boy hang out in sailor's bars. He and Vince had spent the day sightseeing, and Howard had bought new clothes for both of them, more suitable for the hot summer weather.

They wore them now: Howard in white duck trousers and matching jacket, blue and white striped tee shirt and white captain's hat, and Vince in a white sailor's costume. Vince had objected he wasn't a sailor yet, just a cabin boy, but Howard said he needed something cooler to wear, and besides, would soon be a sailor in the future.

Unfortunately, there was something about Vince sprawled out on the velvet divan built into the cabin reading _Mariner's Monthly_ that was distracting Howard from his task. Maybe it was the way the white fabric clung to Vince's firm young thighs, or the way he moved his lips as he read, as if inviting kisses, or the way he kept glancing over at Howard with big blue eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that Vince kept interrupting him every couple of minutes.

"Howard?".

"Yes, Vince?".

"What are you writing?".

"It's the third volume of my memoirs", Howard replied. "I'm calling it _Recollections of an Old Sea Dog_ ".

"You're too young to be an old sea dog", Vince said decidedly. "You have to be eighty or something before you can write that book. Sixty at least. You're not sixty yet, are you Howard?".

"How old do you _think_ I am?", said Howard in an aggrieved tone.

"Erm ... well you don't have any grey hair, but your little shrimp eyes are quite wrinkly ... I dunno, maybe ... fifty?", guessed Vince.

"I am _not_ fifty", said Howard coldly. "And I know I'm too young to be an old sea dog. I'm writing it down now while I can still remember everything".

"That's a bit cheating", said Vince. "They're not the recollections of an old sea dog – they're the recollections of someone younger".

"I might have lost my mind by the time I'm actually old", muttered Howard in irritation.

There were a few minutes of silence, and then:

"Howard? Howard? Howard!".

"Yes, Vince?".

"How much have you written so far?".

"Well, it's coming on. It's not really about the quantity of the writing, Vince", said Howard. "It's about the quality of your prose. Better to write one thousand perfect words per day than ten thousand words which will end up in the waste paper basket".

"So how much have you done?".

"One sentence", Howard admitted.

"Blimey, that's not very much", said Vince. "How come you haven't written any more?".

"Because someone keeps distracting me just as I get an idea for something to write", said Howard testily. "They keep marching around inside my head, putting on little shows. Making it hard for me to concentrate".

"Well, how good is your sentence?", Vince asked.

"It's excellent", said Howard repressively.

"Can I read a bit?".

"Yes, you can read to some extent. You're reading a magazine right now. You could also try reading Charles Kingsley's _Westward Ho!_ , which we'll be discussing on Sunday in light of the difference between a sea captain who is merely obeyed, and one who is followed to the jaws of hell".

"I'd follow you to the jaws of hell", Vince said, looking up at Howard through his long eyelashes.

"Thank you, Vince", said Howard graciously. "I hope that won't be necessary".

Vince took a banana out of his pocket. He peeled the banana skin back, bit into it, then gave the fruit a critical examination.

"Howard? Howard? Howard? Howard? _Howard_!".

"Yes, Vince?", said Howard with a long-suffering look.

"What are the black bits in bananas?".

"They're seeds, Vince. They're perfectly safe to eat", Howard replied.

"Oh. I thought they might be tarantula's eggs", said Vince. "You know, because Bollo got that banana in Bermuda".

"Please don't speak to me for a little while, Vince. I need to concentrate", said an exasperated Howard.

Vince didn't speak, but the way he ate a banana proved to be even more distracting for Howard. He kept thrusting the banana into the back of his throat, while gazing at Howard longingly. It couldn't be more obvious what the little titbox had in mind, thought Howard, because ever since that morning when Vince had jerked him off while smiling seraphically, the brat had been insatiable, and worst of all, he made Howard insatiable as well. That bothered Howard, because a man should be able to control all his impulses, including fleshly ones, and Howard felt that his control over his own impulses was slipping badly.

Howard should be able to look at Vince eating a banana without thoughts of Vince undoing his trousers cluttering up his mind, or images of Vince's lips all over him opening a gallery in his head and charging one shilling a view.

Howard shifted uncomfortably in his chair and rubbed the back of his neck, wondering why the typewriter keys kept sticking to his fingers, and why the heat suddenly seemed unbearable. It was so damn steamy in the Caribbean, Howard thought to himself. Days under a blazing hot sky and sultry nights where you stuck to the sheets .... Nobody could write memoirs under these conditions, nobody! Marcel Proust would have taken to his sick bed with the curtains closed and nibbled a madeleine; Siegfried Sassoon would have said 'to hell with all this', and gone hunting.

Unable to take any more, Howard got up and opened the window in the cabin. He stood by it, hoping for a breeze to cool his face, glad not to look at Vince any more, because that led to ... thoughts. Thoughts that made Howard feel flushed and weak, not master of himself. And then the noise started, a low whistle like a storm approaching, an ill wind on a still summer's day.

Vince suddenly felt a huge hand slap over his mouth, and hold it shut. The noise ended.

"Quiet, Vince!", ordered Howard tersely. "Don't you know any better than to whistle on board a ship?".

Vince looked up at Howard and made a muffled, questioning sound. Howard removed his hand, just as Vince gave it a cheeky lick.

"You're strong, alright", said Vince admiringly, rubbing his jaw. "But what's wrong with whistling?".

"Whistle on board a ship and you'll whistle up a wind", said Howard ominously.

"Isn't that a Hayley Mills film?", asked Vince. "I think I've seen that one; it's not bad".

"Whistle _up_ a wind, not _Whistle Down The Wind_!", snapped Howard. "You may sing, hum, or play music as much as you want, but never whistle on a ship. It's terribly bad luck".

"That just sounds like an old superstition", scoffed Vince.

"Really? Well, there was whistling on the _HMS Bounty_ , and the very next minute there was a mutiny on board. How do you explain that?".

"That was probably the signal they used", suggested Vince.

"And get rid of that banana – it's bad luck too", said Howard, throwing the uneaten portion of Vince's banana out the window and into the sea.

"Hey, Bollo bought that special for me!", Vince protested. "All this superstition stuff is mental. Nobody believes in that any more".

Before Howard could reply, they heard Naboo's voice ring out through the megaphone:

"Pirates on the starboard bow! I repeat, pirates on the starboard bow! All hands on deck! I repeat, all hands on deck!".

**************************************************************

Howard cursed loudly, and looked out the window of the cabin with his spyglass.

"It's pirates alright", he said grimly. "And the very worst of them all – Cut-Throat Bainbridge, captain of _The Caribbean Queen_ ".

"Is he the most violent and bloodthirsty?", asked a nervous Vince.

"No. He's just the biggest prat", said Howard. "Quick Vince – get changed into this dress and pretend to be a girl. No pirate can harm a woman if they take a ship: it's The Law of the Sea".

Howard rummaged through an old trunk, throwing a blue linen mini dress at Vince, quickly followed by a little white sailor hat, a pair of stockings, white go-go boots, and black and white handbag with a daisy design.

"Why do you have women's clothes?", asked Vince, pulling the dress over his head. "And why is everything my size?".

"Never hurts to have women's clothes on board a ship in cabin boy sizes, Vince", said Howard. "You know, because of ... the er, Law of the Sea and suchlike".

Vince found some make-up in the handbag, and hastily put on some eyeliner, blue eye shadow, blusher, and coral pink lipstick, before tucking his hair under his hat. He hadn't had a haircut since they left England, and his hair was quite long now. If he combed it right, his blond mop top could almost pass for a fashionably flipped bob.

"How do you know how to apply make-up?", asked Howard curiously.

"Came in useful growing up with a glam rock foster-father", said Vince, adjusting his hat to the correct jaunty tilt.

"In a _forest_?".

"Trust me, it was a jungle out there", Vince said. He twirled around and flirtatiously asked, "How do I look? Do I look like a girl?".

"Much, _much_ better than that. You look very pretty. But we need to get going. Ladies first", Howard said with automatic gallantry , ushering Vince out the cabin onto the deck.

***********************************************************

"Okay, men", said Captain Moon commandingly as he came out on deck. "Things might look pretty bleak right now, but we're going to try to out-run _The Caribbean Queen_. We're smaller and lighter, and with a steady wind behind us, have a good chance of getting away. We'll take evasive action, and lose ourselves in the cays of the Silver Archipelago".

"Uh Howard, you ballbag"", said Naboo, tapping Howard on the shoulder.

Howard turned around, and was confronted by the horrible sight of a smugly smiling Cut-Throat Bainbridge, the scourge of the sea, already climbing aboard _The Boosh_ , cutlass in hand. Behind him were some of his fearsome crew: Short Jack Titanium, Brown Beard, Mr Snee, Bobby Skeleton, The Scary Pirate Robertson, Taffeta John, Brapp Brannigan, and Jim Swallow.

"Give it up, Moon", said Cut-Throat Bainbridge, placing the tip of the cutlass against Howard's throat. "We have control of your ship, and everything she carries belongs to us now".

"No!", shouted Howard. "This ship is carrying a valuable cargo of library books to the Hen and Chickens Islands. Literacy rates are too low there, and these books are to be used in a colonial reading program to bring a love of learning to an entire generation".

"They'se our library books now, ain't they, me Cap'n?", snickered Bainbridge's wicked quartermaster, Short Jack Titanium. "We'll take 'em all, and get an 'andsome price for 'em on the black market, so we will".

"Doddering dogfish, you'll ruin peoples' lives doing this, you blackhearted scoundrel", cried Howard.

"And who is this lovely lady?", asked Bainbridge, running the point of his cutlass gently down Vince's thigh. "I never thought you'd allow a woman aboard ship, Moon – you're so ... superstitious about things like that". He gave Howard a quizzical look.

"My name's Vince", Vince answered back.

"Vincentia Noir, my fiancee", said Howard quickly. "Vince for short".

"Fiancee? Well, I've lost _that_ bet", drawled Bainbridge. "I took you for a ... confirmed bachelor, Moon".

"I was waiting for the right person", Howard said stiffly.

"I congratulate you, Moon, she's a fine filly", said Bainbridge in a tone of insulting surprise. "Not much in the chest department, but a nice pair of legs, and a truly scrumptious arse. I could bite into those peaches and dribble all over them, if you know what I mean".

"Thanks", smiled Vince. "Your purple velvet frock coat is genius, and I like your moustache. It's like a silver horseshoe".

"Enchanted", said Bainbridge, taking Vince's hand and sucking the tips of his fingers. He stopped, and examined Vince's third finger more closely.

"No engagement ring, Moon?", said Bainbridge disdainfully. "You really are a cheap bastard, aren't you?".

"Vincentia darling, you haven't forgotten your ring again, have you?", Howard said, coming forward. He took a diamond ring out of his jacket pocket, and put it on Vince's finger.

"Thanks, Howard", said Vince, looking down at his finger shyly. "I promise I'll never take it off again". He and Howard gazed at each for a moment, Howard still holding Vince's hand.

"Enough of this", said Bainbridge with a scowl. "I've taken over your poxy little ship, Moon, and I'm keeping those library books. What do you have to say about that?".

"I say that I still have a loyal crew, each of them as brave as biscuits, and they will follow me to the gates of hell", said Howard proudly. "Men – get this weevil off my ship, and let's get these books to the Hen and Chickens Islands pronto, so people can start checking them out of the library!".

Naboo and Bollo didn't move. Bob Fossil came forward, and made a fawning gesture on Cut-Throat Bainbridge.

"Hey Bainbridge?", he said. "I'm Bobby Bob Bob. I'd really like to get involved in your shady operations. Count me in, and I can get you as many library books as you want".

"Welcome aboard", said Bainbridge. "If you can keep your stupid mouth shut, you stand to make about fifty American dollars, maybe more, depending on the current price of second hand library books in Florida".

"Wow, fifty American dollars! Did you hear that, bitches?", Fossil said in delight. "That's more'n I make in a month on this lousy floaty thing. At least, I think it is – I don't know what that is in pounds".

He skipped over to join Bainbridge's crew; Bainbridge casually kicked Fossil in the nuts as he went, so that he keeled over grabbing his groin, smiling through the pain.

"Naboo, surely you won't desert me?", Howard pleaded.

Naboo looked uncomfortable, but he said: "Sorry Howard, but you run this ship too strictly, and treat us like kids. Giving us lectures, and making us read books, and serving us cocoa right before bed. And then the jazz – jazz _every_ Wednesday night! We can't stand it any more, Howard".

Howard had tears in his eyes as he said, "But Naboo, a ship has to have discipline and order, or it can't function. And all I did was try to make things nicer for everyone".

"Naboo, you've clearly been kept under the fascist jackboot of Moon's nanny state for far too long", said Bainbridge. "Pirate ships are run on democratic lines: I don't force anybody to follow my will, because everything is put to a vote, and decided upon by crew members. Did you all _vote_ to have jazz every Wednesday?".

Naboo shook his head.

"Why not join _The Caribbean Queen_?", said Bainbridge persuasively. "Live like a man, not a mewling infant suckled at Moon's teat. Become part of a crew who will offer you friendship and respect. Receive an equal share in all the booty, not the piddling wages Moon has been giving you. And of course, should you choose to, you are free to leave the ship whenever we come into port".

"Naboo, please – this man is a total prat", Howard said desperately.

Naboo hesitated, but said, "Sorry Howard. I guess this is a mutiny". He walked over and stood between Bobby Skeleton and Brapp Brannigan.

"Bollo, please don't go", Vince said beseechingly. "Remember all the good times we had together?".

Bollo looked miserable, and said, "I'm sorry Vince. You my friend, but I got to go with Naboo. I got a bad feeling about it, though". He slunk over next to Naboo, stealing guilty little glances at Vince.

"So now you're taking my crew as well as my cargo", said Howard bitterly.

"You catch on fast, fool", sneered Bainbridge. "You're going to be set adrift in a dinghy".

"Then take Vince with you and put her ashore when you reach a safe port", said Howard. "She's a delicate flower, and won't survive open waters. And under Part 27, Subsection F of The Law of the Sea, all pirates are required to adhere to The Pirate Code, which states that you must treat women honourably when they are aboard your vessel".

"Fuck The Pirate Code", said Bainbridge casually. "I don't stick to that nonsense made up by some old fuddy-duddies in the eighteenth century. If we take your fiancee on board our ship, she'll be passed around like a sick bag in a storm until we've all had our fun with her, then I'll slit her white throat and she'll be thrown overboard to Davy Jones' Locker".

"That sounds alright", said Vince brightly. "I like Davy Jones – _Daydream Believer_ , _A Little Bit Me_ , _Porpoise Song_ ... I mean, they're all genius, and he seems like a really nice bloke and all".

"Oh, she's priceless", chuckled Bainbridge nastily. "She thinks Davy Jones is some stupid pop star. You're marrying a simpleton, Moon".

"How dare you insult my fiancee?", bristled Howard. "You're lucky Vince here is a delicate flower who doesn't like violence, otherwise I'd be on you like a powerful seaweed".

"Get him, Howard", said Vince fiercely.

"I would, Vince", said Howard, "except for the fact it would be an insult to you to act as if this blustering prat even exists. He doesn't deserve to be beaten up in fair combat as if he were a gentleman – he hasn't earned that privilege".

"You're pathetic, Moon", said Cut-Throat Bainbridge. "You and your ugly girlfriend can get in the dinghy and be cast away. Fossil, Naboo, and Bollo – you take control of _The Boosh_ since you know how to sail her. Bobby Skeleton and Brapp Brannigan, you keep an eye on them, make sure they don't try any funny stuff. The Scary Pirate Robertson and Jim Swallow – you go on _The Boosh_ too, and guard the treasure".

"You mean the library books, pumpkin?", Fossil simpered adoringly.

Bainbridge pushed Fossil over so he fell face first on the deck, then strode away to oversee the execution of his evil plans.

*****************************************************************

Howard and Vince sat in the dinghy together, having been cast adrift from _The Boosh_ with enough food and water for five days, and a set of navigational equipment, as dictated by The Law of the Sea, Part 38, Subsection N. They had watched _The Boosh_ and _The Caribbean Queen_ disappear over the horizon, and now felt very alone on the open sea.

"You were right, Howard – Bainbridge _is_ a total prat", said Vince.

"You didn't think so earlier", said Howard sourly. "Before it was all, _Oh Bainbridge your coat is genius_ and _Oh Bainbridge I love your moustache_ and _Yes Bainbridge please suck my fingers_ ".

"He had a cutlass, Howard", said Vince. "I thought it best to stay on his good side, yeah?".

"Bainbridge doesn't have a good side", said Howard moodily. "Just a bad side, and a worse side".

"He said I was ugly", said Vince unhappily. "Do I really look like an ugly girl in a dress, Howard?".

"No, Vince. You look lovely, and the dress shows off your elegant legs", said Howard warmly. "You look better than a girl; stronger, with more striking features. You're prettier than most boys, and tougher than most girls. And Bainbridge is wrong – you have a very nice chest".

"Thanks, Howard", said Vince. "He was wrong about you, too. You're not cheap. This dress is a Jean Muir, that's well posh. These are silk stockings, not nylon, and the boots are real leather, and the bag is Mary Quant".

"I don't know much about fashion, Vince", said Howard, "but I know that on a ship, everything must be of the first quality, or it won't last and you'll run into problems sooner or later. So when I bought the clothes and make-up, I just asked them to show me the best they had, suitable for a slim young person. I think the modern styles suit you, Vince".

"Anyone else ever wear these clothes before me?".

"No, Vince. We never got into a situation where the cabin boy had to pretend to be my fiancee in order to escape from pirates before", replied Howard. "Not that it really worked this time".

"I would never have left you anyway, Howard", said Vince. "You're still my captain, and I said I would follow you to the gates of hell".

"Thank you", said Howard. "I'm glad you're here with me, little man".

There was silence, and then Vince realised that Howard was weeping, his shoulders hunched over, shaking with sobs.

"Hey, what's wrong?", asked Vince in concern, putting his arm around Howard.

"I've lost my ship, Vince", said Howard, wiping his eyes. "It's the worst disgrace a sea captain can ever experience. And my crew mutinied. It means they never loved and respected me the way I thought they did, even after all I did for them. I organised fun activities like books, films, games, music, and bingo, and this is how I repay me".

"You'll get another ship", said Vince encouragingly. "It will make a great subject for your next volume of memoirs. How you lost everything, and hit rock bottom, but you clawed your way back to the top through sheer grit and determination. You could call it _Struggles on the Sea_ , or _One Captain's Fight Against All Odds_ , or _You Can Mutiny, But You Can't Mute Me_ ".

"You don't understand, Vince", said Howard. "That was a government contract I had to deliver those library books to the Hen and Chickens Islands".

"So?".

"So when the books don't turn up on the date they're meant to, all hell will break loose. They'll come after me, Vince".

"Who will?".

"The government. They're all-powerful and reach right around the world, and they won't stand for being double-crossed. They're like the Mafia, only colder and more efficient, and there's less pizza involved".

"Wait – which part of the government will come after you?".

"All of it. MI5, MI6, Scotland Yard ... The Colonial Office, the Office of Fair Trading ... the Admiralty, the Minister for Maritime Affairs, the Department of Education .... and that's just the start!".

"I think you're being a bit paranoid, Howard", said Vince.

"Yeah? Well, just because you're paranoid, doesn't mean they're not after you", said Howard.

"Then there's only one thing we can do", said Vince with determination. "We're in trouble, so we run like hell and don't look back. That's what the Law of the Sea says".

"Yes, Vince, and there can be no higher law than that", agreed Howard.

They bobbed on the waves for a minute, as if considering in which direction they might run.

"Howard, are we going to survive?", asked Vince in a small voice.

"Of course, Vince", said Howard bracingly. "After the mutiny on _HMS Bounty_ , Captain William Bligh was set adrift in the same way we have been, with fewer provisions and tools than we have. His men sailed and rowed to Timor, more than 3000 miles away. According to the charts we've been given, we're less than twenty miles from land. We can row there in a few hours. Aren't you glad we've been building up our arm muscles?".

"That's a relief", said Vince. "All this time I've been feeling that you blame me for everything that happened".

"No Vince, I'm sure it's purely coincidental that you ate a banana and whistled on board ship, and five minutes later we were attacked by pirates, had our cargo stolen, the crew mutinied, and we were set adrift", said Howard drily.

"To be perfectly fair Howard, you did say that whistling would bring a wind, and it's almost completely calm".

Just as Vince said the word _calm_ , a strong breeze blew up over the Caribbean. The wind grew more powerful, whistling mockingly in their ears, until the little dinghy was helpless against its force, and they were running before it in the teeth of a gale.

"At least it's not - ", Vince shouted over the wind.

But he never finished his sentence, for all at once the sky darkened and became covered in black clouds. A bolt of lightning split the sky, and a clap of thunder broke over their heads. A second later the rain came down on them; the sudden heavy rain that hits in the tropics, a wall of water that meant they were just as wet in the dinghy as if they had fallen into the sea.

Alone in their tiny boat, Howard and Vince were swept into the path of the oncoming storm; no longer a captain and his cabin boy, but only two frightened people who clung together against the intensity of the wild tempest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The books Howard is thinking of by memoirists are "Remembrance of Things Past" by Marcel Proust, and "Memoirs of a Fox-Hunting Man" by Siegfried Sassoon. Technically, they are autobiographical novels, not memoirs. Both authors are well known for preferring male lovers – apparently the only kind of memoirist that Howard either reads, or would compare himself to.
> 
> The Silver Archipelago is the Bahamas in our universe. One part of it that is submerged is known as the Silver Bank. 
> 
> The pirates are mostly based on famous real and fictional ones. So we have Cut-Throat Jake (Captain Pugwash, although Bainbridge is more like Captain Hook), Long John Silver (Treasure Island), Black Beard, Mr Smee (Peter Pan), The Dread Pirate Roberts (The Princess Bride), Calico Jack, and Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean). I think you'll recognise the other two crew members without prompting.
> 
> The Hen and Chickens Islands are the Turks and Caicos Islands in our universe. In the 1960s they were a crown colony of the UK, and today are British overseas territories. In real life, their literacy levels are excellent due to free public education, although I don't know what things were like in the 1960s. It's fictional, and made up for the plot.
> 
> As well as being a female form of Vincent, Vincentia is a type of fish, which might have appealed to the sea-going Howard. It's the old name for a type of colourful African flowering plant – because Vince is a delicate flower.
> 
> Vince wears the latest fashions of the 1960s, combining the classic sailor suit look with Mod style. I seriously think Noel would look incredible in this outfit. I did a quick mood board to show what I had in mind. https://littlebooshmaid.tumblr.com/post/185962389086/mood-board-for-chapter-3
> 
> Do I really need to tell you that the actual Law of the Sea, ratified by the United Nations, has zero in common with that in the story? But it would be way more interesting if it did.


	4. Up the Spout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s an epic battle of man and boy against the elements when Howard and Vince are all at sea - especially when Vince finds a mysterious map to a legendary treasure. With all the excitement, Howard barely has time to notice how pretty Vince looks in his dress … or out of it. Thank you to BobSkeleton for beta-ing this chapter!

Dawn broke over the Caribbean, the warm golden light tinting the water, the waves now calm after the passing of the storm. Vince lay in Howard's arms, his face pushed into his shoulder as if trying to block out the rays of the rising sun. Howard had put his jacket over Vince during the night, although as the jacket was as wet as everything else, it is debatable how much it had really helped.

"Are you okay, Vince?", Howard whispered to him.

"Yeah. You alright, Howard?".

"I'm fine. Very wet, and I haven't had any sleep, but fine".

Vince sat up, and looked around.

"Why isn't there more water in the bottom of the dinghy?", he wondered.

"I think the wind was so strong, it blew most of it out", Howard replied. "Why don't you look wet?".

"Oh ... that's wearing natural fibres, ain't it?", Vince said vaguely. "And the Mary Quant make-up is all waterproof and that".

Howard was wearing natural fibres too, but his clothes were soaked. Maybe women's clothing was lighter and dried faster? But why did Vince's hair look dry too, and how on earth had he managed to keep his hat perched on his head at the exact same angle? Then again, Howard still had his captain's cap ... He decided to stop thinking about it to concentrate on more pressing matters.

"Can you check to see if any of our provisions survived the storm, Vince?".

Vince slid down to the other end of the dinghy, where a metal ice box was securely lashed with rope inside the prow using a reef knot, along with several canteens of water. When Vince investigated, he found the supplies were in better condition than they had hoped. Only one of the canteens had been lost, and the provisions were all tinned lifeboat rations – by no means gourmet delicacies, but a source of nutrition, and most importantly, waterproof. There was an emergency fishing kit, and the navigational equipment was in a waterproof satchel, although some of the charts and papers had slipped out and got wet.

Vince picked out a tin of fruit and a tin of condensed milk, and after Howard carefully opened both, they shared them by dipping pieces of fruit into the milk and eating them with their fingers before draining the cans. Howard made Vince eat a selection of tinned vitamin pills, saying otherwise they would get scurvy and other illnesses.

"You know, Naboo packed these supplies for us, Howard", Vince said, as he and Howard shared half a mug of water, wishing they could have a cup of tea each. "This is way better than what that prat Bainbridge would have given us".

"They're the emergency rations from _The Boosh_ ", Howard said, wincing at the thought that it was no longer his ship. "He's only followed The Law of the Sea".

"Yeah, and you taught him that", Vince said. "You know, I don't think Naboo and Bollo wanted to mutiny at all. Bollo definitely didn't".

"Well, they did", said Howard with finality.

"Naboo looked dead unhappy about it", Vince argued. "Maybe he decided it was better to stay with _The Boosh_ ".

"I can't really blame them for wanting to save their own skins", sighed Howard. "And there was hardly room in the dinghy for all of us".

"Yeah, see?", said Vince, rather obscurely.

They washed out their tins in the sea, and let them dry in the sun. Howard got the charts and papers out of their ice box, and put them in the bottom of the dinghy to dry, carefully held down with the oars, which Howard had safely stowed once the storm began.

"The first thing we've got to do is work out our position", said Howard. "We've been blown miles off course. You remember how to use the compass and sextant, don't you?".

"Yeah, Howard", said Vince. "All those lectures you gave us on navigation. You said it could save our lives in an emergency".

"Well, this is that emergency", said Howard, speaking cheerfully because you have to in an emergency.

He tried not to notice how high Vince's mini dress rode up sitting in the dinghy. Nobody had ever taught Vince how to keep his legs together while wearing a mini, and if Howard had found Vince's thighs distracting in a white sailor outfit, it was nothing to how they looked over the top of silk stockings, bare under a short dress. The way Vince was lounging around with his legs apart, Howard could see all the way to his little pants.

Vince seemed to know what Howard was thinking, because he gave a lazy grin and clambered over to sit next to him, which Howard worried might unbalance the dinghy. It was really Howard who felt unbalanced though, as Vince slowly lifted the hem of his dress and leaned back to display himself. He took Howard's hand and placed it on one thigh, and began unzipping Howard's trousers, which was difficult to manage because they were heavy and wet.

If anyone had been hovering over the dinghy, perhaps in a balloon, they might have thought they were looking at a man and girl awkwardly lying in the bottom of a boat with their hands inside each other's pants, giving each other desperate, sloppy kisses. Only if they were able to bring the balloon much closer would they have seen that that the girl, despite wearing a blue dress and silk stockings, was actually a boy, with irrefutable proof of that held firmly in the man's hand.

If the balloonist was very perceptive, they would have seen that the boy was the confident aggressor, but the initially reluctant man was the more enthusiastic of the two, and the more physically domineering. And if the balloonist could just bring their aircraft in a bit closer, they would be able to see ...

The man threw a clean fruit can at the balloon with a furious gesture, and the boy shouted, "Bog off, you nosy bastard!". The balloonist prudently sailed away across the early morning blue Caribbean sky, and the couple continued their explorations of each other in peace.

**********************************************************

"That probably used valuable energy we need for rowing", Howard said, pulling his trousers back up.

"Nah, it's like stress relief", Vince said. "I mean, how would you normally keep someone calm during an emergency, say they were a typical bloke? Not like me, I mean".

"I was shipwrecked with a young fellow named Chalmers once", recalled Howard. "Thoroughly decent chap. We used to sing sea shanties to keep our spirits up, and at one point Chalmers got very down, so I kept him talking about Mrs Chalmers, and the baby they'd had just before he sailed, and how he'd soon be seeing them again, and how much the baby would have grown".

"Well, wouldn't you rather mess around with me instead?", said Vince. "I'd rather get pulled off regular to stay sane than sing sea shanties or natter about someone's missus".

Howard gave him a disapproving look, and primly started going through the navigational charts. Vince thought Howard's air of acting like an elderly virgin was a bit much considering everything he'd been doing with Vince not five minutes ago. Why, Howard had even ... but there was no time to think about it; Howard needed his help with the navigation.

"Vince, your assistance has been invaluable", Howard declared some time later. "You must have really paid attention in my lectures, because your navigational skills are excellent".

"Which is well weird, because Maths and Geography were my worst subjects at school", Vince said.

"It's different now; you can see the practical use of those subjects, and apply them in everyday life", said Howard. But Vince just thought he had never had a teacher he wanted to listen to before, and whose every word seemed to stay with him without him even trying.

"Anyway Vince, we're not in such a good position, as you can see from where I've marked it on the map", said Howard with a gesture. "The storm drove us to the north-east, and instead of being twenty miles from land, we're now almost two hundred. It will take us days of rowing to reach safety. Of course, this is a high traffic area, and we might get picked up by a passing ship".

"Hey Howard, what's this chart here?", said Vince, pulling out a map which looked much older and dirtier than the others, and was drawn by hand. "It shows an island, and some trees, and a cave, and a big red X marks the spot. It looks like the map in _Treasure Island_! But I can't read what it says – it's all in funny writing".

"Let me see", said Howard, in his most sceptical grown-up voice. "It's just old-fashioned spidery handwriting, Vince, and a bit faded. I can't read all of it either, but part of it says _Here lieth the Egg of Mantubi_ , and at the top it says it's a map of Grim Island. I think the date says 1751, or maybe 1757".

"What's the Egg of Mantubi?", asked Vince.

"It's a legendary gemstone – a sapphire as big as a schoolboy's head".

"Howard, a sapphire that size would be worth millions", said Vince excitedly. "If we got that, you could buy all the library books you wanted to replace the ones that Bainbridge took, and you could buy a new ship and all. And anything else you wanted".

"Except that it's a _legendary_ gemstone – in other words, it doesn't exist", said Howard. "It's like King Arthur and the Loch Ness Monster and shops that stay open late on a Sunday".

"Then why's there a map to it?", demanded Vince.

"According to legend, the Egg was captured by the pirate Biggy Morgan from a treasure transported by ship from India, but nobody ever knew what he did with it. The story goes that he hid it on a Caribbean island somewhere, but was killed before he could retrieve it. The map's probably a hoax. That prat Bainbridge's idea of a joke".

" _Or_ it's a message for us", suggested Vince. "What if Naboo left the map for us to find? He's the one who packed our supplies. He could've made it look like a treasure map, but really it's where we're meant to meet him or something".

"I think you've been reading too many novels, Vince", said Howard.

"Well, you're the one who gave them to me to read", said Vince. "Look, Howard, why don't we go there anyway? We've got nothing to lose, and it might be something Naboo left for us to find. And there's a tiny chance that it's real, and we can find the Egg of Mantubi".

"This is by far the maddest and most ridiculous wild goose chase I've ever been offered", said Howard, "and I've literally had to chase down wild geese a few times".

"What's your suggestion, then?", asked Vince. "To go to the Hen and Chickens Islands and hand yourself in? Go back to England and wait for the government to hunt you down? Row around the Caribbean together until we run out of food and water? I say, we go look for the Egg of Mantubi, because it's the only option we've got".

"Great, except for one little thing. We have no idea where it is", said Howard.

"What are you on about, Howard? It's on Grim Island, and we've got a map to it!".

"Except there's no island called Grim Island", Howard informed him. "They changed a lot of the island names here to appeal to the tourist trade, or maybe Grim Island was a code name".

"Then follow the map!".

"The thing is, Vince, there's no latitude or longitude on the map, did you notice?", Howard said, holding the map out to Vince to examine. "There's nothing to tell you where the island is, except that on the left hand side, it tells you that Big Island is to the west".

"Let me guess – there's no Big Island, either", said Vince.

"Correct. That could have changed its name too, or maybe it wasn't an official name, but something they called it. And we have no idea how big Big Island is exactly – just that it's bigger than Grim Island, which is definitely small".

"Okay, I know it's not a lot to go on ....", Vince began.

"It's _nothing_ to go on", Howard said.

".... but let's try anyway, because at least then we'd have something to work towards", Vince concluded. "And doesn't The Law of the Sea tell us that a mariner must always follow adventure if it presents itself?".

"Well, yes it does", admitted Howard.

"Then we have no choice but to accept this as our adventure", said Vince. "So what do we do first?".

Howard thought for a few moments.

"We've only got a few days of food and water, so we must make for the nearest land", he said at last. "If you look at our position here, we should head to The Ursulines as quickly as possible. Once safely ashore, we can decide our next move".

"Could Grim Island be somewhere in The Ursulines?", Vince asked hopefully.

"It could be anywhere, so it's possible", said Howard. "Let's have something to eat, because we need fuel for rowing".

Vince looked through their supplies, and selected tins of corned beef, a sort of stodgy cracker biscuit, and some creamed cheese, which they were able to turn into messy sandwiches with the help of Howard's pen-knife. Then they had digestive biscuits. After eating, they washed out their tins and left them to dry, and stored the now clean and dry tins from earlier in the ice box until they could find a rubbish bin on land – because only the most blackhearted scoundrel or the most lubberly landlubber would throw dirty tins into the sea.

*************************************************************

And now came the hard part of their voyage, because there was other no way to get to shore than for them to row, row, row their boat. Howard would row for two hours, and then they'd swap over and Vince would row for an hour. The person coming off rowing shift had a drink of water, but not too much because fresh water was their most precious resource.

The person not rowing would go fishing to increase their food supplies. Vince proved to be extremely talented at this, and Howard was flabbergasted at the way fish almost seemed to fly over to his hook. Vince explained that he'd often had to fish in the ... river .... when he lived in the forest to supplement their meagre diet. Of course, there was no other way to eat the fish except whole and raw, but Vince said he was used to that.

"'Saw'right, Howard. We ate it raw all the time when we couldn't have a fire".

"Couldn't have a fire in a forest, naturally", Howard agreed. "An absolute disaster in a hot summer if it got away from you".

Their routine was now to row as much as possible every day, sleeping whenever they got a chance, and eating as much as they could without using up their supplies. The person rowing would snack on sweets to keep up their energy; little pieces of chocolate, barley sugars, chewing gum. This was Vince's favourite part of rowing, except that the sugar made him thirsty, and Howard would only let him wet his mouth with water until his shift finished.

Vince insisted on them having at least one stress relief session a day, saying he needed something to live for. Howard moaned that it was taking up time and energy that could be spent rowing, but seemed keen enough once they got started. Keen as mustard, actually, especially after Vince pointed out there was a way to combine stress relief with getting a bit of extra nutrition. Howard looked at Vince with real admiration, and said he was starting to think like a proper sailor. Then he licked his fingers clean.

It was blazing hot, and by the second day Howard was sunburnt. He asked crossly why Vince was not likewise affected.

"There was a tube of L'Oréal sun lotion in my handbag", Vince explained.

"Lolloping lampreys - why didn't you share it with me?", Howard asked. "You could see I'm going as red as a crab here".

"I thought my complexion was more important", Vince said. "I'm young, and there's still a chance to protect mine from the weathering of the elements".

"Give me that sun lotion", ordered Howard, going through the handbag himself before Vince could comply. "And where did you get those sunglasses you're wearing?".

"They're genius, aren't they? A passing dolphin gave them to me. They're Oliver Goldsmith – do you think I look a bit like Holly Golightly in _Breakfast at Tiffanys_?".

"How come you get free sunglasses from dolphins?", grumped Howard. "The dolphin only spat water on me".

"I think in his own simple way he was just trying to cool you down", soothed Vince. "And because I can talk to animals, I was able to listen to his problems. Animals like that, you know".

"So what problems do dolphins have?", Howard wanted to know.

"It was all a bit over my head", Vince replied, "but I did say that listening to music always relaxes me, and told him to check out Pink Floyd some time".

On the third day, it poured heavily with rain for several hours. Not only did this give Howard a break from sunburn, and meant they could row without getting hot and sweaty, but they took the lids off the canteens and let them fill with rainwater. Because of this they didn't have to worry about fresh water, because Howard had gloomily told Vince that they would be down to drinking their own urine to survive very soon.

"Couldn't we drink each other's instead?", Vince had asked. "You know, then we could pretend it was beer, or soup".

"Don't be disgusting", Howard had said frigidly.

When the rain stopped at last, the weather immediately became sticky and humid. They both took off their wet clothes and hung them over the side to dry, rowing or baling out the dinghy wearing only their pants, and a lot of sun lotion. It was hot even dressed this lightly, and the person who wasn't rowing filled up a clean tin with sea water to throw over the rower in an attempt to cool them down. They both swam whenever they got off their rowing shift

Towards the end of the day, Howard was rowing slowly through the sea, the setting sun behind him. Vince sat in the prow of the dinghy, leaning over like a figurehead, trying to catch a breeze. He turned his head slightly to smile at Howard, his dark blond hair already getting sun-bleached. Howard thought that although Vince looked very pretty in a dress, he looked beautiful like this: almost naked, his thin, strong limbs bare, his bones showing, his skin lightly dusted with salt.

Vince scrambled back into the dinghy, squeezing past Howard so he could sit behind him. He put his arm around Howard to offer him a drink of water and some sweets, then left his arm on his shoulder as he nuzzled a kiss into Howard's neck, and settled his head close to the captain's. It was too hot for this, but somehow Howard didn't mind.

Howard found himself filled with a strange emotion he couldn't put a name to – a sort of contentment, but beyond that an excitement which unfurled in his stomach, and farther still a peace and calm which surpassed all understanding. There'd been days of backbreaking work, he'd been lashed by the sun and the rain, he was sick of raw fish, they were running out of food, and they'd almost run out of water. Yet it remained, this feeling of ... happiness, Howard supposed it must be. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been this happy before, and certainly never in this way.

"Go on, finish your shift", Vince said softly. "You've been rowing for ages, let me take over for you".

Howard smiled at him, and wasn't sure if he'd ever smiled like this before either. His mouth didn't feel stiff or twisted and his face didn't hurt at all. It almost felt ... effortless.

******************************************************************

 _Captain's Log, Day 4 – Dinghy_ (wrote Howard). _We have not made such good progress today, due to heavy rain followed by a muggy heat. However, our spirits remain high and we have plenty of fresh water thanks to the rain._

_I must commend the efforts of my cabin boy and ~~dear friend~~ fellow shipmate Vince Noir, who has made ~~me smile properly for the first time in years~~ this difficult period so much easier. Despite the hardships, we have ~~got on extremely well~~ barely quarrelled at all. Vince has shown great initiative, been the driving force on our mission, and ~~looks lovely in a dress~~ proven himself a master fisherman. He is a ~~darling boy~~ good lad, and in the future will make a fine ~~little wifey~~ sailor, and perhaps even a ~~companion for my~~ ~~old age~~ captain of his own ship._

_By my reckoning, with the help of the tides we will make landfall early tomorrow morning on one of the smaller islands in the Outer Ursulines. It is our great hope that the inhabitants will be able to grant us assistance, and if the island proves uninhabited, that it will only be a short distance to find one that is inhabited. I am aware that the seas can be treacherous in this region, but with due caution and courage in our hearts, we have faith that we will reach our goal not long past the dawn._

Howard put down the pencil with which he was keeping the log in a notepad. The light was fading, but he had the feeling of a job well done that was almost over now.

Which just goes to show that what the good book says about never knowing what the next day will bring forth is right on the money, and when Doris Day warbled that the future’s not ours to see, she knew her onions alright.

**********************************************************************

At dawn on the fifth day, Vince and Howard had a hearty breakfast of fruit, condensed milk, corned beef, crackers, jam biscuits, and a mug of water. After the washing up, Howard took the oars and began rowing in long, slow, even strokes - the kind that mean you can row all day if you have to, even though the island they were headed for hove into view before too long. Both Howard and Vince felt tense and tingly inside, and neither of them spoke. Vince was fidgety without any job to do, and kept unconsciously smoothing his hair and straightening his stockings, as if he was going to be inspected when they arrived.

In later years, Howard couldn’t have told you how it happened. At first it was just a white cloud on the horizon, but the cloud grew thicker and came closer, moving rapidly across the water. By the time Howard realised they were in the path of a waterspout, there was little that could be done, and before they knew it, the waterspout had struck, whirling through their dinghy and tearing it in two.

“Vince, we’re only two hundred yards from shore”, Howard shouted, clinging to the wreckage. “Swim for it!”.

Vince shakily stood up, as if he intended to dive or fling himself from the wreckage into the sea. Howard began swimming, believing that Vince was following. It was only when he quickly glanced behind, hearing a great roar, that he saw with indescribable horror that the water spout had lifted Vince up (“lifted him into its maw”, thought Howard confusedly, even though he knew waterspouts don’t have maws), and was even now twisting him away across the sea. Vince stood upright in the centre of the waterspout, holding his handbag, looking, with his mini-dress and go-go boots, like nothing so much as a Mod Mary Poppins.

“VINCE!”, bellowed Howard, without even realising it. Later he would wonder why his throat was so sore, and put it down to the salt water he had swallowed, but he screamed Vince’s name into the heavens again and again, as if calling upon all the celestial powers to aid him.

Then he swam for the island, because there was nothing else to do. He lost his jacket and his cap, and his tee shirt got torn, but in due course he was lying face down on a deserted beach, coughing up sea water, and feeling more wretched than he ever had in his life.

“Oh my God, what have I done?”, cried Howard. “Taken by a waterspout, my poor Vince! This is all my fault!”.

He was holding something small and wet, and when he opened his hand to see what it was, it was Vince’s little white sailor hat. Howard clutched it as if he never intended to let it go, and began sobbing in earnest, his fingers digging into the wet sand and his ribs aching with a pain he did not yet understand was grief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ursulines are the equivalent of The Virgin Islands in our universe, which are named after the 11 000 virgins who were the followers of Saint Ursula. In our world they are divided into The US Virgin Islands, in the west, and The British Virgin Islands, to the east. I’ve divided them into the Outer Ursulines in the north, and the Inner Ursulines in the south, simply because it sounds more romantic and storybook. No political statement is intended by this.
> 
> Dolphins really do quite like Pink Floyd - although probably their more psychedelic stuff from the 1970s rather than their 1960s works.
> 
> When I Googled, people who drink wee (!) say that it really does taste similar to beer or soup. How Vince knows this I have no idea. (Now deleting Internet search history). 
> 
> Waterspouts don’t pick people up and whirl them off - they actually twist down towards the earth, not up and away from it. This one would seem to be a fair weather waterspout, which in our world are generally pretty harmless. They are clearly quite different in Howard and Vince’s universe.


	5. X Marks the ... What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventures of Vince and Howard, both apart and together, and how they became treasure seekers on a desert island. Thanks as always to my fabulous beta, BobSkeleton - you’re the best, Bobby!

_Captain's Log, Day 1 – Island. It is with a heavy heart that I must report my dearest friend and loyal companion, Vince Noir, is lost, having been taken by a rogue waterspout. I have failed in my duty as captain, because instead of going down with the dinghy when it was hit by the waterspout, I saved myself by swimming to this island. I should have protected Vince with my life, as my mentor Captain Tommy Nooka protected his crew, and now as punishment, I must suffer one of the worst indignities a mariner can endure – being cast away on a desert island, alone._

_I hope whoever reads this record in the future will forgive me when I confess that in my mental and physical weakness, I spent some time crying on the beach, holding Vince's sailor hat, which is all of him to have survived the ordeal. But eventually I remembered my duty according to the Law of the Sea, and being familiar with "Robinson Crusoe", began swimming out to salvage as much of the dinghy as possible._

_I was able to recover the metal ice chest, which still had a few provisions in it, but more importantly, the emergency fishing kit. At least now I can use the waterproof matches to light a fire and cook my catches. I also found one of the canteens, which will come in useful for collecting rainwater, although I hope that the island may have a source of fresh water. And there are plenty of coconut trees, providing both food and drink._

_It was greatly fatiguing, but I dragged the oars and most of the slats of wood of which the dinghy was composed from the sea up onto the beach. My pencil and notepad are safe, being in my pocket when disaster struck, and only needing to be dried out in the sun all day to be useful once more._

_The worst of it is that all the navigational equipment has been lost, and I have no way of knowing where I am, or charting a course if I ever manage to escape from the island. The so-called "treasure map" is gone too, but I do not count that as any great loss. I fear it was left to us as a taunt by that prat Bainbridge, and would have been of no value to us._

_I finish my log in a rude shelter I have constructed from palm leaves and bamboo. My loneliness is barely to be comprehended, and although I have sometimes wished to be left alone in peace, I find the reality is not as I imagined. I have lost my ship, my crew, and my best friend through my own cowardice and negligence, and now must face an eternity of isolation on this godforsaken island._

_My poor Vince is gone, missing, presumed dead, and if by some miracle he still be alive, must be suffering beyond all human endurance._

**************************************************************

This is genius, thought Vince to himself as the waterspout whirled him up higher and higher, into the cloudless sky. I'm so far up, I can see everything, right over all the islands. I can see Howard on that beach there, he's safe now. Of course he is, Howard's a brilliant swimmer and he's so strong. He can do anything.

The waterspout was taking Vince further and further into the Atlantic Ocean, until he could no longer see The Ursulines, edged in turquoise. There was nothing but sea below him; deep, blue, and crinkled by waves. This was rather less interesting to look at. Vince wondered if the waterspout would end up taking him back to England, and he imagined being left in the Thames, maybe on the Isle of Dogs or Canary Wharf.

Then the waterspout was taking him lower and lower. Vince could see something in the ocean below; bright yellow, and shaped like a wedge of cheese. The bright yellow wedge got bigger and bigger, and the waterspout seemed to be swirling around trying to aim for it, until Vince suddenly found himself thrown face down on top of the wedge, his fingers clinging to one side of it, his handbag slung over a shoulder.

There was something written on the yellow wedge, which felt smooth and plastic, like the side of a Lego brick. The wedge was huge, so it was difficult to read the large black letters. ERM, Vince could read that. Then over on the other side, ANG. The word started again almost where it ended. LE THEBER. In the middle, ATR. No, there was MUD there, Vince could read that. MUD AT RIA ...

And then all at once he could read it, as when a picture of lines and squiggles turns out to be a pony, and you can't imagine how you couldn't see the pony right away. THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE.

He'd been dropped in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, on its very marker, which someone had whimsically decided should be in the shape of a triangle. Vince had seen the big yellow arrow on maps of the Atlantic, pointing to the Bermuda Triangle and warning people of its position, but he'd never imagined that it represented a real yellow triangle, made of some kind of slippery plastic, and presumably anchored to the bottom of the ocean.

Bloody hell, the Bermuda Triangle, thought Vince. That's where people mysteriously disappear, and where Howard's old captain got slurped up by a sea monster. I can't see any right now, but ...

At that moment, an enormous bubble-gum pink head arose from beneath the waves, with deep-set eyes, a bulbous nose, and a mouth filled with teeth that looked ready to chew and grind.

"Hi, I'm Vince", Vince introduced himself. "What's your name?".

The sea monster gave a nightmarish howl.

"Charlie? Hey, that's a genius name", said Vince. "What kind of music you into, Charlie? Me, I'm a Stones fan, but I've been getting into Pink Floyd lately".

Charlie gave a series of braying noises.

"You saw The Doors in Miami? Wow, that's so cool", said Vince excitedly. "My mate Bollo loves The Monkees – do you know them? They got that song that goes, _Cheer up sleepy Jean, oh what can it mean to a daydreamer believer and a homecoming queen_ ".

Charlie cocked his head, listening to Vince sing the chorus, and then he nodded several times in a show of recognition. He drew himself higher in the water so that Vince could see his broad pink back, and gestured towards it by turning his neck impatiently.

"Get on your back? Um, okay Charlie ... I think if you got closer to this side of the yellow triangle I could just about drop onto you from here", said Vince.

He sat on the very edge, and when he saw Charlie beneath him, looking up expectantly, Vince let himself fall onto Charlie's back. He held onto Charlie's neck with both arms.

"Okay, Charlie, where’re we going?", asked Vince.

Instead of answering, Charlie rapidly dived beneath the waves, Vince giving an alarmed, "Hey, no - Charlie!", before he too was underwater, holding on for dear life, and with just enough time to wonder if this was how all those people mysteriously disappeared without trace in the Bermuda Triangle.

****************************************************************

_Captain's Log, Day 2 – Island. To assuage my loneliness, I have made a companion fashioned from a coconut, and named him Joe, after Joseph Conrad. He's no substitute for Vince, but I hope to maintain my sanity by having someone to talk to every day, even if it be only a coconut._

_I tried having a discussion with Joe about French literature, but he wasn't interested in Marcel Proust or Victor Hugo. It turns out Joe prefers Albert Camus, although how he thinks yapping about murder on a beach is a good idea for someone who is on a deserted beach all day is a good idea, I cannot fathom. So much for helping my sanity!_

_I miss Book Club and talking to Vince about literature. His insights into "The Sea Wolf " were astounding, especially when he suggested I would make a great Wolf Larsen, being strong and of powerful build. He intimated he wouldn't mind being kidnapped and dominated by someone like Wolf Larsen, and after Book Club we re-enacted several of the scenes together. Vince is a talented actor, with a creative imagination._

_I am building a raft from the dinghy's wreckage in order to escape the island. The chances of Vince still being alive are minuscule, and my chances of finding him by setting out to sea on a raft with no navigational equipment almost nil, but I cannot sit here day after day, knowing that Vince might be lost and alone out there._

_I will float around the Atlantic until I either find Vince or perish, and if I perish, it will be better than living without Vince. Joe does not approve of this plan and believes it to be reckless, but frankly Joe can suck his own milk. I tire of his constant pessimism._

************************************************************

Vince had no idea where he was. There had been long watery descent, holding his breath, glad of all the times he and Howard had held underwater breath-holding contests while swimming around _The Boosh_. Howard had usually won, but Vince was now the champion of breath-holding, forever.

Then everything had gone black and he didn't remember what happened next. Now he was wandering down a dark undersea tunnel, one hand against its rocky side, feeling as if he was trapped in a box. Water dripped onto his head as he walked.

As he carefully turned a corner, he could see a dim light ahead, and began walking more confidently. The light got stronger, until Vince found himself at a heavy brown front door, lit by an old fashioned carriage lamp hanging from the ceiling of the rocky tunnel. There was a wooden box for the mail, and a garden of sea plants on one side. A white signboard planted near the garden read DAVY JONES' LOCKER. PLEASE RING.

Vince pressed the doorbell, and when nobody answered, he knocked loudly, banging hard on the door. There was no response, so he tried the handle, and when the door opened, he walked in.

He found himself in a cheerfully but chaotically organised warehouse, with a heavy glass porthole that looked out into the undersea world. A young man in jeans, striped tee shirt, and donkey jacket was lying in a big woven hammock, reading a newspaper, and listening to Buffalo Springfield on a record player.

When he noticed Vince, he jumped down from the hammock , saying, "Hey, what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?".

"I'm not a girl, I'm a boy in a dress. A cabin boy, actually", Vince corrected him. "And I'm Vince".

"Hi Vince, I'm Davy Jones", said the young man, who was barely taller than Able Seaman Naboo. "And that's cool about the dress. I dressed up as a girl in Season 2, Episode 24 because we needed to enter a contest for mixed-sex bands".

"That's a bit cheating, isn't it?", said Vince.

"Yeah, but then I fell in love with a girl disguised as a boy, and we combined our bands together", explained Davy Jones. "In its own way, the episode was really striking a blow against assigned gender roles. I think you make a really cute girl, anyway".

"Thanks, Davy Jones. You make a really cute boy", said Vince, for Davy Jones was an adorable freckle-faced moppet with big brown eyes and a wide friendly smile. "And I bet you looked cute as a girl, too".

"Well, Micky said I did", recalled Davy Jones, "and an older man, a record executive, kept hassling me by buying me gifts and asking me out. We were early spokespeople for the #MeToo movement, really".

"I like older men buying me gifts and asking me out", Vince said. "My captain, Howard, bought me this dress ... and this ring I'm wearing". He held his hand out.

"That ring is a symbol of the sacred bond that exists between a sea captain and his cabin boy", said Davy Jones solemnly. "Why did you leave Howard?".

"I got taken by a waterspout and dropped in the Bermuda Triangle, and a sea monster named Charlie brought me here when I sang him a bit of _Daydream Believer_ ".

"Oh, you're a fan then?", grinned Davy Jones.

"Yeah – my mate Bollo absolutely loves you", said Vince with enthusiasm.

"I'll let you have my autograph to give him", said Davy Jones, rifling through a stack of signed photographs of himself.

"Yeah, well I don't know if I'll see Bollo again", said Vince moodily. "The rest of the crew mutinied and cast me and Howard adrift in a dinghy, and now I've lost Howard".

"Bands break up eventually", said Davy Jones philosophically. "Just think of this as your solo career".

"But me and Howard were on a treasure hunt together", complained Vince.

"Me and the lads went looking for treasure on a desert island in Season 2, Episode 8", said Davy Jones. "It turned out to be a con, and we got hunted down by this nutty Australian guy".

"Howard and me were looking for the Egg of Tumanbi or something. A big sapphire".

"The Egg of Mantumbi?", said Davy Jones. "There's a treasure map for that floating around somewhere. Anything that falls into the sea eventually winds up in Davy Jones' Locker".

"But how will I ever get back to Howard?", asked Vince plaintively.

"Don't worry Vince – you and Howard will always find your way back to each other", Davy Jones assured him. "That's how it works with you two".

"How do you know that?", Vince demanded.

"Because I know everything that's been in the sea and on the sea and under the sea", said Davy Jones. "So I know all about you and Howard".

Vince wondered if Davy Jones knew about the stress relief, and decided he probably did. There was something about his smile that said he knew. Also, they had done it on the sea, so he had to know.

"So ... I'm supposed to hang around here until Howard comes and rescues me?", asked Vince.

"Oh no, it's your job to rescue Howard", Davy Jones told him. "Didn't you know? That's how it works with you two".

"I don't even know where to start", Vince said. "And Howard is stronger and cleverer than me – it should be him doing the rescuing".

"I think you're selling yourself short", said Davy Jones. "But look here Vince, are you still comfortable wearing a mini dress and go-go boots?".

"Not really", said Vince. "I've been wearing this outfit for days, and it's not all that practical. Howard only gave it to me because we needed to escape from pirates".

"Mm yeah, I'm sure that was the reason", said Davy Jones with an amused quirk of his lip. "If you want, I can give you some of Micky's clothes – he leaves stuff here whenever he comes for a sleepover".

"That would be brilliant", said Vince, as Davy Jones threw some flared jeans, a striped cotton jersey, and a pair of Adidas sneakers at him.

Vince hastily got changed, and Davy Jones found him a bag to put his dress and boots in, as Vince said he couldn't possibly throw them away – Howard had spent a lot of money on them.

"Now, do you feel like jamming with me for a while?", asked Davy, grabbing his guitar from the floor below the hammock.

Vince gave a huge grin, and said, "Yeah! I'll pull some new shapes while you lay down some fat chords, Davy Jones".

You see, they hadn't read _The Odyssey_ in Book Club, and Vince didn't know about the Lotos Eaters, or Calypso, or even Sirens. He wasn't worried at all as he began singing _Last Train to Clarksville_.

**********************************************************************

Howard finished lashing the last wooden slat of the raft into place, and stepped back to examine his handiwork. He had to admit, the raft didn't look very seaworthy, and he had an uncomfortable feeling that Joe's assessment might have been correct, and perhaps even motivated by concern for Howard's wellbeing. Their last exchange had been heated, and Howard felt rather guilty now.

"Call that a raft?", Joe had barked at him. "I know you said you were content to perish in the Atlantic if you didn't find Vince, but with the way you've constructed the raft, that will happen sooner rather than later".

"Thank you for your input, Joe", Howard had said stiffly, "but I don't think you realise how important it is that I find Vince, and how meaningless my life is without him".

"I suppose you'd prefer that little sissy to the companionship of a real man such as myself", Joe had said in a superior tone.

"Real man? Jumping jellyfish, you're a flipping _coconut_!", Howard had yelled at him. "And Vince isn't a sissy, he's brave – why, he hasn't been frightened for one second. Not even when we were attacked by pirates, or cast away, or during a terrible storm".

And then Joe had said something contemptible about Vince wearing a dress and carrying a handbag like a weak little sissy, and Howard's vision had gone blood red, and he was afraid he hadn't behaved in a perfectly gentlemanly manner towards Joe. After all, there were standards of human decency to maintain, even on a deserted island ....

Howard tightened the rope around the final slat again. He tried to forget about Joe, and prepared to push the raft into the sea. He was still knee deep in water, holding the raft by its mooring line, when he heard something in the far distance.

 _... true ... fairy ..._  
_... else ... not ... me_

Howard thought it was a voice, a human voice.

 _... out to get ..._  
_... way it seemed_

Howard could hear the voice singing.

_... haunted all ... my dreams_

Howard was almost sure he knew he knew who it was, and then he saw a huge .... a huge pink ... something like a blob of chewing gum cresting the waves, with a blond boy in a striped jersey riding on it. The boy was singing loudly.

 _Then I saw ... now I'm a believer_  
_Not a trace of doubt in my mind_

It was, it was Vince, and he was riding on a ... but no, that just wasn't possible.

 _I'm in love, and I'm a believer_  
_I couldn't leave ... if I tried_

Vince waved frantically at Howard, then hugged the pink monstrosity, before dropping into the shallow water carrying a small white travel case, and waving goodbye as the sea monster gave a harsh, mournful cry, and sank below the waves.

"Howard! Howard! It's me!", Vince shouted, wading waist-deep towards Howard while Howard waded towards him towing the raft, shouting, "Vince! You're alive!".

They met where the water was up to Vince's thighs, and hugged each other as if they were never going to let each other go.

"But Vince, you were taken by a waterspout", said Howard, putting Vince's bag on the raft and towing it carefully back to shore.

"Yeah, but it took me somewhere quite nice", said Vince. "In the Bermuda Triangle".

"And that was ... that was a sea monster", said Howard, his little brown eyes crinkling in dismay.

"His name's Charlie. We got on", said Vince airily.

"You don't 'get on' with sea monsters", argued Howard.

"Well, I did. We just clicked", said Vince. "Charlie saw The Doors in Miami, and he feels really bad about what happened, but I told him it wasn't his fault. Well, not all of it, anyway".

Howard's head was spinning as he pulled the raft onto the beach.

"Genius raft", said Vince in admiration. "That's exactly what we need, Howard. And I've got the navigation equipment – it fell into the sea, and went to Davy Jones' Locker".

"That's where you've been?", asked a worried-looking Howard.

"Yeah, and Davy Jones is a really good bloke. He gave me these clothes to wear, but I've got the dress and go-go boots all safe in the bag".

"So you got on with Davy Jones as well?", said Howard, in a voice that didn't exactly sound pleased.

"Yeah, he was so nice – he said I looked cute dressed as a girl".

"Did he?", said Howard, in a voice that sounded not pleased at all. "And what does Davy Jones look like?".

"Oh, you must've seen pictures of him", said Vince. "He's a tiny little bloke about the size of Naboo, brown hair and eyes, freckles, quite good-looking. Girls go mental over him".

"Really", said Howard frostily.

"Have you met anyone interesting?", Vince asked conversationally as they walked along the beach.

"Not really", said Howard with a guilty start. "That is, there was someone named Joe, but he's ... not here any more".

"Why not?", asked Vince.

"I'm afraid I ... oh Vince, this is so terrible, I can hardly say it ... but I ... I murdered him!", Howard confessed, looking stricken with remorse.

"Bleeding heck, Howard", said Vince blankly. "Maybe he's not killed, just hurt or something".

Howard took him to where Joe's body lay. Howard had laid him in a grove of palms, with the vague idea that Joe could among his relatives. Vince studied the corpse.

"Howard, it's just a coconut", he said finally.

"I know", Howard said unhappily. "But I gave him a name, and we spoke together every day, and in that sense, a very real sense, Joe was a person".

"So why did you murder him?", Vince asked.

"Oh, he was a complete arse", said Howard petulantly. "He did nothing but criticise and complain, and finally he said something utterly foul, and I lost my rag with him, and smashed his head open on some rocks. There was coconut milk everywhere".

"Howard, I think you might have gone a bit wrong being on your own", said Vince in concern. "Don't worry about Joe any more, Howard – you've got me now".

************************************************************

Howard couldn't believe what a difference it made having Vince on the island instead of Joe. The weather was beautifully warm, instead of oppressively hot, and Vince got the sun lotion out of his bag for Howard to use. Vince took one look at the rough lean-to Howard had been sleeping under, and in no time at all knocked up a comfortable little bamboo cottage with palm leaves for curtains.

"Where did you learn to do that, Vince?", Howard asked in surprise.

"Off a documentary I saw on the telly called _Gilligan's Island_ ", Vince informed him. "Davy Jones gets TV from both Europe and America, and this show tells you how to survive on a desert island. You can make almost anything out of bamboo and palm leaves, except a boat".

Howard showed Vince that the emergency fishing kit was safe and sound, and Vince immediately went out and got them a catch of red snapper for lunch. Howard scaled and gutted them with his pocket knife, and cooked them over the fire he had built, simmering them in coconut milk in pots made from coconut shells. Howard had found some bushes that had spicy berries like peppercorns, and some leafy green plants a bit like spinach, and added them to the pot, besides roasting yams in the fire's embers.

"This is the best thing I ever tasted", Vince announced, when he had tried Howard's coconut fish stew. "I never even knew you could cook".

"What did Davy Jones give you to eat?", Howard asked jealously.

"It's weird, but now I think of it, I don't think I ate anything", Vince said after a moment's thought.

"Nothing at all?"".

"Yeah, I think Davy Jones' Locker is sort of outside time and space, and you don't need food there".

Over lunch, Vince showed Howard the treasure map, which Davy Jones had found in his locker and given back to them.

"I really think the whole thing is a hoax, Vince", said Howard, scrutinising the map again.

"No, I'm sure Davy Jones would've told me if it was fake", Vince said. "He knows everything in the sea and on the sea and under the sea".

"So he must know where Grim Island is", said Howard. "Did he tell you?".

"Not exactly", said Vince cautiously. "He said the things we search for are often closer than we think, and that life's real treasure can be found in true friendship and a loving heart".

"That's useless", Howard groaned.

"But Howard – we _need_ that treasure so you can buy new library books and fulfil your contract", said Vince anxiously. "Look, would you like your diamond ring back?".

"No, Vince", said Howard with dignity. "You keep that until – well, whatever happens, you keep it".

"You could sell it", Vince suggested.

"I'll never sell it", Howard told him.

"At least get the money back you paid for it", Vince urged.

"I didn't pay for it", Howard said.

"You _stole_ it?", Vince asked in shock.

"It was my mother's engagement ring, Vince", Howard said softly. "She left me her engagement ring and wedding ring".

"Howard, why did you tell me to wear the engagement ring and pretend to be your fiancee?", asked Vince. "I mean, why not the wedding ring, and say I was your wife?".

"Because ... you always get the engagement ring first", said Howard, looking at the sand.

*****************************************************************

After lunch, Howard said they couldn’t set out to sea this late in the day, so Vince suggested they explore the island – Howard had been too busy building a raft and bickering with Joe to do so on his own. Vince put his dress back on, because it was cooler, but wore the striped jersey over it, and kept the Adidas sneakers as being better for exploring than go-go boots, while carrying the handbag. Howard gave Vince back his little white sailor hat, which Howard had been keeping for him, and Vince put it on his head at the jaunty angle he favoured.

Howard would have found exploring on his own hot, tiring, and stressful, but it was quite fun with Vince. They raced each other up a hill, laughing the whole way, and then exclaimed over the view from the summit. They found a spring of fresh water, and drank deeply before playfully splashing each other. Just near the spring was a rocky cave with two palm trees in front of it, and Howard and Vince spent a while debating whether it was safe to explore, or whether they should wait until they could come back with rope and a source of light.

"Howard, have you noticed something about the island?", Vince asked excitedly.

"There's a lot of coconut palms?", Howard suggested.

"Well, yeah ... but look, you set up camp in a bay on the north side of the island", said Vince, holding up the compass they'd been using. "Then we climbed a big hill to the west, and here's a spring, and a cave, and we can see a little inlet on the east side of the island. Look familiar?".

"Not really", said Howard.

"Doesn't it look very similar to the treasure map?", Vince said, getting it out of his handbag so Howard could see.

"Well, we've only explored the north part of the island – it might be different further south", said Howard. "And probably lots of islands have bays, inlets, hills, springs, and caves".

"Yeah, but the treasure is supposed to be in a cave", said Vince, pointing at the big X on the map. "If we look in the cave, and find the treasure, then we know it's the right island".

Howard didn't answer straight away; he kept thinking how different Vince seemed since being taken by the waterspout. More mature and confident, better able to express himself. It was as if Vince had grown up while they were apart, and Howard took a moment to mourn his cheeky little cabin boy. Vince couldn't be a cabin boy any longer: he was now the sailor Howard always knew he would be.

Howard gave a little sigh, and said, "It's worth trying, Vince. But if it's too dark and dangerous in the cave, we have to go back and get proper equipment".

"Alright, Howard", said Vince, eagerly entering the cave, and holding out his hand for Howard at the same time.

The cave didn't turn out to be too dangerous after all. It wasn't a dark, dank cave filled with bats and guano and a stuffy feeling like there's not enough oxygen, but the sort with a sandy floor underneath and holes in the roof for sunlight to filter through and a tang of salt in the air. It had a high ceiling and enough room to walk two abreast, and in the distance they could hear the sea, so they both thought the cave must go through to the inlet.

Howard was just thinking how pleasant it was walking hand in hand with Vince in the cool shade of a dry, sandy cave, and that if the cave did finish in the inlet, they should stroll onto the beach and go swimming without their clothes on, when Vince pointed out a tunnel which went off to the left hand side. He gave Howard a nudge, meaning they should explore it.

There was no light in the tunnel and the ceiling was lower, so Howard had to stoop his head, and it was narrow enough that they could only walk single file. Vince went at the front, and Howard held onto him so they didn't get separated – for some reason, he had his hands on Vince's hips and thighs, under the skirt of his dress.

It wasn't long before Vince had to bend over as well, and the walls narrowed until Howard was having trouble fitting between them. Howard muttered that this was exactly the dark, dangerous part he'd said meant they had to go back for ropes and lighting, but Vince said they'd just take ten more steps in the dark. Vince only took two before he cried out, stopping unexpectedly, until Howard's hands were forced to cup his buttocks.

"Howard, I tripped over something", Vince said in excitement. "There's a box here, at least I think it's a box. It's wooden and square, and not that big. Back up, and I'll drag it into the light".

Shuffling backwards while bent over wasn't easy, and Vince had to pull the box in front of him, which was even harder as it didn't have a handle. But at last they made it, and Vince dragged the box to where there was more light, so they could see. It was a perfectly ordinary wooden steamer trunk, not particularly large, and locked. Howard knew these locks weren't usually very strong, and he managed to jemmy it open with his pocket knife.

Howard stood back to let Vince lift the lid, and when he did, they both stared – Vince in wonder, and Howard in shock. It was a huge ovoid cut from a gemstone, and Howard had time to realise it was exactly the same shade of deep blue as Vince's eyes when he was in dim lighting, the colour of a clear sky straight after the sun goes down. For a moment, Howard forgot to look at the gemstone, distracted by something far more precious.

"It's a sapphire", breathed Vince. "And it's massive, Howard ... it's ... oh, I dunno ....".

"The size of a schoolboy's head", said Howard in a stunned voice.

Vince reverently lifted the gemstone from its box, making a surprised gasp at how heavy it was, and cradled it in his arms.

"Everything's right now, Howard", said Vince. "All we have to do is get to the Hen and Chicken Islands and sell the sapphire. Then you can use the money to buy new library books to replace the ones that were stolen, and the government won't come after you. Then we can buy a ship, and hire a crew, and sail home".

"The Egg of Mantumbi!", said Howard in disbelief. "But Vince, these great gemstones from India, they're always cursed".

"What? Who would curse them, Howard?".

"Hindu priests, I suppose", said Howard. "They're stolen from temples, aren't they? And if anyone takes such treasures, they will be cursed, and nothing but ill luck will follow them all their days. I mean, the ship of the man who stole it was taken by pirates, and it finished off Biggy Morgan, didn't it?".

"You're unbelievable, Howard", said Vince angrily. "I eat a banana, it's my fault we get attacked by pirates. I whistle, it's my fault there's a mutiny and we get caught in a storm. Now I find you the most valuable jewel in the world, that can solve all your problems and make you a multimillionaire, but you reckon it's cursed. I'm sick of getting the blame for everything!".

"Vince, I'm sorry ...", Howard began. But he didn't get any further.

"Avast, ye lily-livered bilge rats", came a menacing growl from behind them. "Get yer 'ands off our booty, ye scurvy strumpet, or ye’ll feel the lead of Short Jack Titanium".

Vince and Howard turned to find the wicked quartermaster of _The Caribbean Queen_ standing there. He was pointing two flintlock pistols at them, and looked like he meant business.

"Would it be alright if I had a last request, Mr Titanium?", asked Vince, thinking fast. "Um, I think The Law of the Sea allows me one".

He looked hopefully at Howard, who officiously added, "Chapter 46, Subsection Q, paragraph four".

"I'd like to have one last blow on my horn, for old time's sake", said Vince.

"Carn't see as 'ow it does no 'arm", said Short Jack Titanium after a moment's reflection. "Be me guest, lassie".

Vince took a small ivory hunting horn from his handbag, raised it to his lips, and blew on it, loud and long. Howard looked as if he'd been hoping for something different. The deep blast that Vince blew rose in intensity until it was deafening, a resounding call which went out across the sea like a command, not a supplication.

"Bloody 'ell, they'll 'ear that in the bleedin' Arctic!", Short Jack Titanium said, crossly, rubbing his ears. "This'll play 'avoc with me tinnitus".

Vince had remembered that when he bid farewell to Davy Jones, the petite pop star had given him the ivory horn as a parting gift.

"If you are ever in peril, Vince, blow on this horn, and it shall summon me", he had said earnestly. "It matters not where I am or what be my occupation, I shall come to your aid, with all that the ocean holds under my charge and direction".

************************************************************

The note blared across the Atlantic, remaining true and clear no matter how loud it became. In his Locker, Davy Jones was entertaining Frank Zappa, his most recent guest. Frank Zappa was expounding at length on where he'd received the inspiration for his album and asking if he could be a guest on The Monkees' show, and if the Monkees would perform on his next album.

Davy Jones turned Frank Zappa's debut album up louder on the record player, trying to drown out the sound of Frank Zappa talking. There were some strange sound effects on the album, Davy Jones thought. Almost like some kind of hunting horn.

Frank Zappa thought this was the wildest trip he'd ever been on. It was far out, man. His first child was going to be named Undersea Locker Monkey Zappa. And he decided the next album was going to have a lot of hunting horns on it. Really loud ones. That would blow everyone's minds. Groovy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The parts about Davy Jones are all based on the real pop star and The Monkees' TV show. For example, Davy Jones' Locker resembles The Monkees' pad on the show. The band was good friends with the guys from Buffalo Springfield, and Frank Zappa was a big fan of The Monkees – he did end up being allowed on their show as a guest, but they turned down the offer to make an album with him. The clothes that Davy Jones gives Vince are based on Micky Dolenz's iconic outfit in their movie "Head".
> 
> At a 1969 concert given by The Doors in Miami, Jim Morrison attempted to whip the crowd into a shamanistic frenzy, which led to mass hysteria and a riot. The story suggests that Charlie, who attended the concert, might have been partially responsible. 
> 
> The treasure map and the island itself are sort of based on "Treasure Island" by R.L. Stevenson. The plot line is partly due to a dream by reader Aurisarrian22, where Howard and Vince found a treasure chest filled with chocolate and Easter eggs in a cave on an island. I think it was basically a psychic dream, because I was always planning to have the Egg of Mantumbi and the deserted island, but the wooden chest in a cave is all Aurissarian22. I hadn't decided where the treasure was, and in the book it's buried in a swampy part of the island that's hard to reach. So the dream ended up being part of the story. Thanks, Aurisarrian22!


	6. Safe Harbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of the story, so thank you for reading, and leaving kudos, and commenting. And thank you to Bringing Back the Boosh, because I'm certain I would never have written it otherwise, and thanks to Noel and Julian for coming up with the idea, which I wouldn't have thought of by myself, and special thanks to my lovely beta, BobSkeleton!

Howard and Vince were alone, sitting back to back in the cave, tied together. Their hands and feet were bound with stout rope, and Howard reluctantly admired the knots Short Jack Titanium had used. He might be a wicked pirate, but he was also an experienced seaman, and there was no way they could escape from these skilfully tied ropes. Howard prudently didn't point out the fine workmanship of the knots to Vince, who was trying to untie them with his teeth. At last even Vince tired of this futile exercise, and slumped back against Howard, defeated.

"Howard?", Vince said in a small voice.

"Yes, Vince?".

"I don't wanna die".

"Hey, come on, little man", Howard said comfortingly. "It's going to be alright".

"Is it?", Vince asked hopefully.

"Not really", admitted Howard. "Once Short Jack Titanium gets back, we're going to be killed. But the main thing is, we had some good times, didn't we?".

"Yeah, remember when we were on _The Boosh_? We used to read together in bed".

"And all the times we went swimming. Remember the porpoise race?".

"Yeah. And the evenings you showed me the stars? I look at Vegas every night now".

"It's Vega, actually", Howard said, unable to let this error go, even at the point of death.

"Whatever", Vince said. "The thing is, I was really happy with you on _The Boosh_ , Howard. More'n I ever was in my life before".

There was a pause, and then Howard said, "Vince, this is difficult for me, but I want to say something. I love you, Vince".

Vince gave a short laugh that a listener may have identified as 'bitter'.

"Are you laughing at me, Vince?", asked Howard in a hurt tone.

"All that time we were sharing a cabin together: why didn't you tell me then?", asked Vince accusingly.

"I was your captain – it would have been wildly inappropriate", objected Howard.

"And when we were alone together in the middle of the sea? You couldn't have said said anything?", went on Vince.

"We were in an emergency situation and needed to keep our minds on the job in order to survive", Howard explained. "Saying _I love you_ would have been a distraction".

"And we've been on a deserted island together", Vince continued, his voice hard and angry. "All safe and sound, nobody else there. Why didn't you say something earlier today?". 

"You'd been through a terrible ordeal, Vince", said Howard. "I didn't think it would be fair to put any pressure on you when you'd only just returned to me".

"So instead, you wait until we're facing certain death", said Vince tiredly. "That's the time you decide is perfect to tell me how you feel".

"I'm sorry if my timing is a little off", said Howard with dignity, "and I'm sorry if you don't feel the same way. I've never told anyone I loved them before, so I don't have any experience in it".

"I _do_ feel the same way", said Vince impatiently. "I love you Howard, and I ain't never said that to no one neither".

"You mean you love me in the respectful, duty-bound way that a cabin boy loves his captain?", Howard asked warily.

"No, you berk – I mean I love you like Maria loved Tony in _West Side Story_ , and Lara loved Yuri in _Dr Zhivago_ , and Bonnie loved Clyde!".

"Gee, could you have picked some examples that _didn't_ end in horrible deaths?", griped Howard.

"Even if we die a horrible death, I don't care Howard, as long as we're together", said Vince. "I love you".

"I love you too, Vince", Howard said softly. "I love you the way Captain Allnut loved Miss Sayer in _The African Queen_ , and Nikkie loved Terry in _An Affair to Remember_ , and The Baron loved that singing nun in _The Sound of Music_ ".

"What a touching scene", sneered Cut-Throat Bainbridge, who had been standing in the shadows for who knows how long.

"Oh God, it's that prat Bainbridge again", Howard grouched to Vince.

"So your fiancee is actually a cabin boy in a dress, not a girl", said Bainbridge in disgust. "I should have known you wouldn't be capable of anything _normal_ , Moon".

"Boy or girl, you still fancied Vince", said Howard in satisfaction. "Couldn't keep your eyes off his legs".

"Yeah, _and_ you want to sink your teeth into my bum and dribble all over it", crowed Vince triumphantly.

"Shut up, you filthy little deviant", Bainbridge ordered. "I'm just here to collect my booty, have a piss, and be off".

"You're not going to kill us?", Howard asked, hardly daring to believe it.

"No, I don't get my hands dirty by murdering scum like you, Moon", said Bainbridge contemptuously. "I'll just leave you tied up here, and let you rot".

"Don't let us die! We've got so much to give!", pleaded Howard.

"You can't _do_ that!", wailed Vince. "That's against the Law of the Sea _and_ the Law of the Land!".

"Serves you right for stealing my treasure map", said Bainbridge. "And I find you two freaks repulsive, so if you don't mind, I'll be taking my sapphire egg and legging it".

Just as Bainbridge reached for the Egg of Mantumbi, a voice said quietly, "Actually, I _do_ mind, Bainbridge".

"Who said that?", Bainbridge demanded.

"You weren't expecting me to show up, were you Bainbridge?", said Bob Fossil, coming into the cave from other direction, which Howard and Vince had thought might lead to the inlet.

Howard and Vince gaped, because this was a new Bob Fossil they hadn't seen before. Sure, he was still soft and doughy, and was still wearing a powder blue safari suit and it still didn't fit him properly. So he wasn't totally new, but nonetheless he had gained an air of steely determination, as if Danger might possibly be his middle name.

"Fossil? Whatever you think you're playing at, get out now!", Bainbridge shouted at him. "I don't need your help with this, and I'll kick you in the nuts for following me".

"Oh no, I'm so scared, big mean old Bainbridge might hurt ickle widdle Bobbsy-wobbsy", said Fossil in a mock-terrified voice. "Well, guess what? I came here to drink tea and punch you in the crotch ... and I don't see any teapots around here".

"Look, you fool ... OW!", cried Bainbridge, as Fossil made good on his threat.

"Yeah,  _ow_ is right, knuckle-head", said Fossil. "You thought you could bully me and push me around, Bainbridge, but I got news for you – your little Bobby Bob has had enough! I'm taking back the night, the morning, and most of the afternoon!".

"I'm seriously getting annoyed, now", warned Bainbridge. "I don't know what you're doing ... hey, stop biting me!".

"I was on a whaling ship – you think we sat around all day doing embroidery? No, embroidery was Thursday evenings only!", gibbered Fossil. "I was in freaking _Korea_ , man! That's where I learned to karate-chop your nipples! Hiiii-yaaah!!!!".

"I can't believe Fossil came to save us", said Vince in a daze.

"It's a shame Bainbridge is beating him to death with his own shoes", said Howard. "If we weren't tied up, we'd be able to help him".

"That's okay Howard. Fossil has got backup", said Naboo, walking through the inlet entrance to the cave. "Get him, Bollo".

Without even bothering to say he had a bad feeling about it, Bollo had launched himself at Bainbridge with a terrifying scream, and tore him apart in a matter of moments. Bainbridge was now just a limp mess oozing body fluids all over the cave floor.

"Howard you ballbag, stop hogging all the rope", Naboo said. "We need it to tie Bainbridge up".

"Be my guest", said Howard politely, as Naboo expertly released he and Vince from their bonds, and used the rope to truss Bainbridge like a Christmas turkey.

"You guys are incredible", said Vince, as he rubbed his wrists and ankles.

"So you've regretted your decision to mutiny, then?", Howard said huffily, walking stiffly, because his back hurt like blazes.

"Howard you ballbag, there was never any mutiny", Naboo said. "I knew our best chance of saving _The Boosh_ was for some of us to remain on her, and that you and Vince had a better chance of survival with only two of you sharing the rations. I stole the treasure map from Bainbridge and hid it in the dinghy as a message for you to find".

"I knew it! I _told_ you they didn't want to mutiny, Howard", said Vince, his face alight.

"So Fossil ... all along you were just pretending to worship Bainbridge and give him the library books for your share of the spoils?", said Howard.

"Uh, yeah. That's right. Pretending", said Fossil shiftily.

"And then you came to save us. Fossil, you're a hero, and your wages will be going up".

"As a special reward because Bobbsy did good?", asked Fossil eagerly.

"Well, no. The National Union of Sailors, Seamen and Mariners obliges me to give you a small annually adjusted increase in line with CPI, backdated to the start of the financial year", admitted Howard.

"But we've got the Egg of Mantumbi, now", said Vince. "It's worth millions and millions, and we can all share in it equally".

"Millions? That sounds like way more than the crummy fifty American dollars Bainbridge was offering me", said Fossil in delight.

"Not that you would have ever accepted money from that prat", Howard said sternly.

"Oh, right. No ... of course not", said Fossil, his eyes darting around.

As Vince carried the Egg of Mantumbi and Bollo carried Bainbridge back to the bay where Howard had been camped, Howard said, "Naboo, I don't understand why you couldn't have just written us a note or something".

"I did Howard, in code", said Naboo. "I wrote _Grim Island_ on it – you were meant to read the name backwards".

"Er ... Dnalsa Mirg?"

"No you ballbag. Instead of G-R-I-M, it's M-I-R-G:  _Mutineers Is Really Good_ ", explained Naboo. "And I wrote _1757_ on it".

"And that means?".

"That we'd meet up on the 17th of July, at 5 pm", said Naboo smugly. "I swapped the last two numbers around so that nobody else could understand it".

"But how did you know which island to meet us at?", asked a puzzled Howard.

"The legend says that the Egg of Mantumbi was hidden somewhere on Egg Island in The Ursulines", said Naboo. "The island got its name from the sapphire. Everyone knows that".

"Of course", said Howard. "I was just ... er, testing you. And you came through with flying colours, Naboo. Well done".

*************************************************************

When they got to the beach, Bollo put Bainbridge down on a handy rock, and Howard asked where _The Boosh_ was.

"We anchored in the little inlet", Naboo said. "But it's alright, someone is bringing _The Boosh_ around now".

"Tottering turtles! You left _The Boosh_ in the hands of a pirate crew?", gasped Howard in horror.

"Don't worry, ballbag, it'll be right", said Naboo. "These pirates are okay".

Howard continued to fret and mutter under his breath, but sure enough, they soon saw _The Boosh_ approaching the bay. The pirate Bobby Skeleton was at the helm, expertly bringing her in.

It was at this moment, while they were all keenly watching the ship, that Bainbridge suddenly leapt up, shouting, "Aha! I cut the ropes with a razor I had hidden in my moustache. Now I'm going to jump on that raft and make my way home via Puerto Rico".

"Damn, that prat's escaping", Howard said in irritation, as Bainbridge ran down to the beach, pulling the raft into the sea and jumping on top of it. "I hope the raft is as unseaworthy as it looks".

However, Howard's raft-building was never put to the test, for at that moment, a huge bubblegum-pink head with deep-set eyes and a bulbous nose rose above the waves. It opened its mouth wider and wider, showing enormous teeth, and then Bainbridge and the raft were both gone as if they had never existed.

Charlie gave a joyful honking noise as more of him appeared, and they could see a small man in a striped tee-shirt and a donkey jacket on the sea monster's back, waving madly.

"We came as soon as we could, Vince!", he shouted. "Throw the horn back now".

Vince yelled, "Thanks, Davy Jones! That was genius", as he hurled the ivory horn. It was caught by a long-nosed man with wild black hair and a moustache sitting behind Davy Jones, who said, "Like wow, man. This whole trip has been far out. Just way gone crazy, swings like sixteen, ya dig?". Then all three were gone. The sea seemed empty and silent without them.

********************************************************

Once back on board _The Boosh_ , Howard went about anxiously examining his sloop to make sure it was still shipshape, and hadn't suffered any neglect during the mutiny that wasn't. He was forced to admit that everything was in perfect order, with the decks freshly swabbed and the brasswork polished until you could see your face in it.

"Good work bringing the ship in, Bobby Skeleton", Howard said graciously to the pirate, who was wearing a pink tunic covered in pictures of squid.

"Thank you, captain", said Bobby Skeleton, allowing their hand to be shaken vigorously .

"It is to your credit that you aided us in our time of need, despite your life of piracy", said Howard, sounding a bit pompous because he was shy with new people.

"Well you see, sir", said Bobby Skeleton, "I never really wanted to be a pirate. My parents were pirates, both coming from long lines of pirates, and I was expected to follow in the family business, if you follow me, sir".

"What did you want to be?", asked Howard kindly.

"I always wanted to be a librarian, sir", said Bobby Skeleton bashfully. "And when I saw that Bainbridge was planning to steal library books, I realised I couldn't let that happen. People in the Hen and Chicken Islands _need_ those books, captain".

Bobby Skeleton looked so earnest that Howard gave them an encouraging clasp on the shoulder. Bobby Skeleton continued, "So you see, captain, when we get to the Hen and Chicken Islands, I'm going to become a trainee librarian under the great librarian, Professor Stone, and devote my life to improving the literacy rate in the islands".

"Highly commendable", said Howard approvingly. "And what about you, er ... Brapp Brannigan, is it?".

Brapp Brannigan looked up from where they had been ensconced in a corner with Vince, excitedly discussing popular music.

"Please believe I would never have knowingly joined a pirate ship that didn't follow the Pirate Code, Captain Moon", Brapp Brannigan said. "I was horrified when I discovered that Bainbridge considered himself above the Code, and above The Law of the Sea. I've had a telegram from a friend of mine named Dee, who's a member of The Pirates of Pennsylvania, a highly-regarded crew who respect The Pirate Code. Once we get to the Hen and Chicken Islands, I'll be catching a plane to Pennsylvania to join them as well".

"You'll never go wrong following the Law of the Sea", said Howard, giving Brapp Brannigan a hearty pat on the back. Vince stopped hugging Bobby Skeleton long enough to hug Brapp Barannigan as well.

"And what about _The Caribbean Queen_?", asked Howard. "I suppose that ghastly Short Jack Titanium is her captain now, and we should take evasive action to avoid her".

"That's the best part of all", said Naboo. "The cabin boy on board _The Caribbean Queen_ realised what a set of dirty rotten scoundrels they were, and he sank the ship. They all went down to Davy Jones' Locker, and we rescued the cabin boy, who we found clinging to a piece of the wreckage".

"Good Lord, who is this heroic cabin boy?", asked Howard in astonishment.

"Billy Ocean, captain", said a slim teenage boy with curly dark hair, coming forward so Howard could shake his hand.

"Billy Ocean, you look like a sensible lad with a trustworthy face whose been brought up among decent folk", said Howard. "How did you come to join a pirate ship?".

"Captain Moon, I left Trinidad with my family as a young boy, searching for a better life in England. My dream was to be a pop star, but I wasn't getting anywhere with my music career, and I became disillusioned. I ran away to sea, and joined the first ship who'd take me on, never caring that they were pirates. Looking back, I can see it was a typical act of teen rebellion, combined with homesickness for the sunshine of the Caribbean".

"So what do you want to do now, Billy Ocean?", Howard asked seriously.

"Captain, when we get to the Hen and Chicken Islands, I'd like to get a job at the aquarium", said Billy Ocean. "Through honest toil and giving back to the sea, I hope to make amends for my crimes".

"I'll take Billy Ocean under my wing, captain", said Bobby Skeleton, who had grown fond of the cabin boy on _The Caribbean Queen_. "He's too young to be completely on his own, so he can live with me, and I'll make sure he gets a proper breakfast before going to work each morning, and brushes his teeth every night".

As Billy Ocean was thanking Bobby Skeleton, Vince came forward, and took Billy Ocean's hands in his own.

"It's good that you're getting a job at the aquarium", he said, "but Billy Ocean, don't give up on your dream of being a pop star. Go back to England when you're ready, and try again".

"Vince is right", said Naboo. "In the next decade, there's going be an upsurge of pop stars with Caribbean heritage in Britain, and you want to be there, ready to ride that wave"

"I got a good feeling about it", Bollo chipped in unexpectedly. "I think you gonna be big, Billy Ocean".

"So whatever happened to those other pirates? The ones who were supposed to be guarding the library books?", asked Howard.

"They got off _The Boosh_ in The Silver Archipelago", said Naboo. "The Scary Pirate Robertson said something about a girl he had back home in Europe, and Jim Swallow was looking to get a job at Disney World".

**************************************************************

Now that they were on their way to the Hen and Chicken Islands, Howard told Bobby Skeleton, Brapp Brannigan, and Billy Ocean that they were honoured guests, and shouldn't do any more work on board ship, so that _The Boosh_ became a pleasure cruise for them. They were free to swim, sunbathe, and take part in any activities they chose to – Bob Fossil even offered them full body massages, but somehow none of the three fancied the idea.

Billy Ocean and Brapp Brannigan spent a lot of time jamming on deck, while Bobby Skeleton couldn't resist getting through a small crate of library books. Bobby Skeleton timidly showed Howard the first few chapters of a novel they were writing, set in a magical library run by a lonely poet. Howard said it was one of the best things he'd ever read, and gave Bobby Skeleton a business card for his publisher, Hamilton Cork, urging them to complete and submit the manuscript.

They enjoyed Bingo Night that evening, especially as Bob Fossil had recovered sufficiently from the beating Bainbridge gave him to call the numbers. Bollo won a signed photograph of Davy Jones, and squealed like a total fanboy – Bobby Skeleton was less fortunate, winning copies of Howard's memoirs, and thus forced to actually read them and think of polite things to say. After Games Night on Saturday, Howard tactfully said he had rostered himself on to do nightwatch duty, so the company could have rum and hash brownies and sing all nineteen stanzas of the rude version of the ship's song at the tops of their voices.

Vince didn't stay, but slipped out to join Howard. Sitting beside him on deck, Vince listened to the roar of, _'Twas on the good ship Boosh, the captain was a douche, he fucked my bum_ ...

"You could hear it all the time", said Vince, with a shamefaced little look.

"Of course, Vince", smiled Howard. "Do you think I don't remember being a young crew member myself, and needing to let off steam? Many's the time I sang, _'Twas on the Cheesy Dreamer, the captain was a screamer, we fucked his arse and cum was sparse,_ _'cos he drank it from a creamer_ ".

Vince giggled softly, and leaned against Howard until the captain put his arm around him. It was a warm night, the stars were bright above them, and Vince and Howard found it very pleasant doing nightwatch together. Naboo was too high to relieve them at two o'clock, so they spent all night on deck, waking up at dawn in the hammock, tangled together, the glow of the early light on their faces, and Howard with a nagging ache in his cold back.

************************************************************

They arrived at Port Starboard, the capital of Great Fowl Island, bright and early on Monday morning. Here they said goodbye to their new friends, for Bobby Skeleton was going to the Ranger Library to be trained by the great librarian Professor Stone, and Billy Ocean to the aquarium, and Brapp Brannigan to Paul McCartney Airport, headed to Pennsylvania to continue their life of Code-abiding piracy with their friend Dee. There were many hugs and warm handshakes and promises to write and send postcards, and then the crew were alone once more.

Howard and Vince took the Egg of Mantumbi to Marcus Hoffman, the most expensive jeweller in Port Starboard. Marcus looked the sapphire over very carefully, and then told them it was a clever fake, offering them ten pounds for it, as he could sell it to tourists as a curio. Vince was very disappointed, but Howard almost relieved, as there can't be any curses on fake gemstones. They divvied up the booty equally from this find, and everyone on board received two pounds.

In the end, they were able to deliver the cargo of library books one day earlier than the contract stipulated, so Howard didn't have to worry about the government coming after him.

"You see, it's like I always say, our voyages never fail", said Howard with a broad grin, as he handed around glasses of champagne, Howard having bought a bottle with his two pounds.

Naboo rolled his eyes at that, but took a glass anyway, sipping it as he gave Howard a tiny mocking smile.

"And you've all worked extra hard to complete this contract, so why not celebrate?", Howard continued, filling his own glass.

"The real question is, you ballbag, when are you going to make an honest boy of Vince, here?", Naboo asked. "He's wearing your ring, and you haven't even popped the question".

Howard looked at the floor, and Vince said, "You're mental, Naboo – two blokes can't get married".

"Well, that's not quite true", blushed Howard. "Under The Law of the Sea, two men are permitted to marry once they have been at sea together for ninety days. Today is the ninety-first day since we left port in England, Vince, and we've been together every day of the voyage".

"Genius! I mean, _yes_ , I'll marry you, Howard!", said Vince, his eyes shining like sapphires.

"But you're sixteen, Vince", said Howard. "You can only marry with the permission of a parent or guardian, and we'd have to wait until you were twenty-one. We can still be engaged, though".

"That's perfect", said Vince. "I had my twenty-first birthday two months ago – remember, Howard? I told you I was twenty when we first met and my birthday was a month away".

"Mm, and then you said you were twelve", Howard said doubtfully. "Then you said sixteen".

"I just said that so I could be your cabin boy", said Vince breezily, waving that all away as unimportant.

"So you committed fraud?", frowned Howard.

"A little bit", admitted Vince. "But Howard, I really, really needed to get away from the place I was in, and I really, really did like you and wanted to be on your ship".

Howard sighed, and said, "And we can't just get married. The Law of the Sea says we need a registered minister of religion to perform the ceremony, and we can only get married on board a ship".

"But we're already _on_ one of those floaty things, Howard", Fossil pointed out.

"And I'm registered to perform marriages in The Church of Shamanism", said Naboo.

"I got a bad ... oh, what the point? Nobody ever listen", said Bollo grumpily. "Just take care of precious flower Vince, Harold, or I slap your face".

And long before you could sing all the possible verses to _What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor_ , Howard and Vince had both said "I do", and Naboo had said, "I now pronounce you captain and sailor ... er, man and wife". And then Naboo smirked and said, "Get your finger inside his ring, Vince", and Vince was wearing a gold wedding band as well as a diamond engagement ring and an enormous smile.

***************************************************************

"So what shall we do now that we're married, little man?", asked Howard, slightly hazy on how that had happened.

They were lying in their cabin, having celebrated their engagement, wedding, and Vince's twenty-first birthday all at once with champagne and a cake Naboo had made. At least, Howard was lying down, and Vince was straddling him, his mini-dress riding up on his thighs.

"I think it's high time you deflowered me", grinned Vince. "We've been married since ... at least ten o'clock".

"Oh, I don't think it's quite that many inches", said Howard muzzily. "And you're too much of a delicate flower to be deflowered, Vince". He gazed tenderly at his new wife as if Vince was made of starlight.

"Well, why did you put a tube of Vaseline in my handbag, then?", demanded Vince, producing the said tube.

Howard had to admit that was an ironclad argument, for which he had no answer, and they barely needed to change position anyway. So they had a happy honeymoon in the Hen and Chicken Islands, and deflowered each other pretty thoroughly, and had to go looking for a shop that sold Vaseline in bigger containers before they left.

***************************************************************

When the honeymoon was over, it was time to return home, and they had an uneventful voyage. It's almost suspiciously convenient that, in stories, nobody ever has any adventures on the way back, so the author can sum up two or three months with a sentence such as: _It was time to return and they had a peaceful journey home, plagued by none of the adventures which had given them such trouble_.

The other way, which is equally convenient for authors, can be summed up in another useful sentence: _And then they returned home, having so many adventures on the way, each one more thrilling than the last, that I cannot possibly tell you of them all, for they would fill many volumes_.

Suspiciously convenient or not, they truly did have a peaceful, pleasant voyage home, and Howard told Vince he was far too old to be a cabin boy any longer, but would still share Howard's cabin, as they were married. And Vince discovered the best job of all on a ship is captain's wife, because then you are free to help out as much as you want, and everyone will think you're a terrifically good sport, and if you want to go fishing, you're nothing but a blessing to the cook. And if you feel like lazing around on deck sketching in a little pad or painting your nails, then nobody can stop you.

Vince still took care of their cabin, of course, and made Howard cups of tea, and got his pens for him, so in that way, his daily tasks hadn't changed that much. Except if Howard found Vince scrubbing the deck, he'd tell him not to ruin his hands instead of scolding him for not doing it well enough. And now when Vince brought Howard his sextant, his husband would kiss him and say, "Thank you, darling". And if Howard came in while Vince was making the bed, instead of telling him to start again, Howard would say, "Don't bother making the bed when I'm just about to drag you back into it, little man". Vince suspected that Howard came in at bed-making time for this very purpose.

And as captain's wife, Vince had the authority to make a few small, very small, changes in the running of the ship. Jazz Night was now Music Night, so they could play all sorts of music, pop and rock and R&B and blues, not just jazz, and they could dance, not just sit around looking serious and listening to Howard scat. Howard turned out to be a surprisingly good dancer, which Fossil was almost too fascinated by. Fossil himself had a strangely erotic style of dancing which involved rubbing his nipples.

Vince arranged it so that Howard did nightwatch more often, so the crew could let off steam and sing rude songs about him, but Vince never joined them. Howard and Vince always did nightwatch together, ending curled up in the hammock with each other (Vince made sure there were plenty of pillows and blankets for Howard's back). The crew appreciated these minor changes, but what they most liked was that their captain was happier and more content, not just rough and tough and jolly.

***************************************************************

They arrived in England on a mild autumn morning with just enough chill in the air that Howard could wear his rolltop jumper. As soon as they were in dock, they had to prepare the ship for the cold months by emptying the bilges, scrubbing off barnacles, and so on. At the end of this hard work, which had to be done to Howard's exacting standards because the ship was his livelihood, it was time to shake hands and say goodbye to Naboo, Bollo, and Fossil, who were all catching a train to their own homes.

"Are we getting the train too, Howard?", asked Vince.

"No, I've got a car stored in a garage near the docks. It's not far to walk".

The car turned out to be a battered old dark green Austin, and Howard gallantly unlocked the door for Vince before getting in himself. There was a bit of trouble getting the engine going, but Howard said she was always slow to turn over, and it was the garage's fault, really, and before too long there was a bit of a splutter, and the car started.

"Do you live around here?", Vince asked.

"Well ... sort of. One of the villages nearby. I'm afraid you might find it a bit out of the way", Howard said, giving Vince a worried look. "I mean, there's no night life, nothing for young people".

Vince smiled reassuringly, but Howard continued to mutter phrases like, "can be lonely in the winter", "not a wealthy man", "don't expect too much", "no modern conveniences to speak of", "live very simply", "rough bachelor quarters", "nothing more than a bolt hole, really", and so on.

This apologetic muttering lasted for most of the journey until they arrived in a seaside village. Not the sort they put on picture postcards, but a village that had a row of shops with big glass windows in the main street, and two pubs called _The Anchor_ and _The Sailor's Arms_ , and a lot of fishing smacks out on the dark blue harbour.

Howard drove ponderously up a road that twisted and turned until they arrived at a white stone cottage by itself near the clifftop, with a view of the sea and a little sandy path that led down to the beach below. There was a hawthorn hedge covered in shiny red fruit, a white garden path made from shells and lined with Michaelmas daisies, cutting in two a green lawn with an alder tree with orange autumn leaves on one side, and beds of rosemary and lavender that had grown wild and leggy over the summer.

Howard put the car away in a ramshackle shed, and then he went to unlock the green front door with a red Virginia creeper growing around it, the key hidden in a big conch shell nearby.

Howard gave Vince a look, and said, "It's not much, but it's home", as he turned the key.

"It's brilliant, Howard", Vince smiled.

Howard took Vince's hand and led him inside, closing the door behind them. Vince looked around and found himself in a snug sitting room with comfortable old-fashioned furniture, arranged around a stone fireplace flanked by vases filled with dried sea-grass. There was a faded red rug, a bookshelf with glass doors, a ship in a bottle on the mantelpiece, and a clock with a barometer on one wall. Everything was as neat as a pin, if a little dusty from being left shut up since April.

"I love it, Howard", Vince said sincerely. "I love the house, and the village, and the beach ... and I love you".

Howard drew Vince into his arms for a kiss, their first beneath their own roof. And Vince, who had never had a home, or anybody to love him, now had both, which is the happiest ending possible.

*******************************************************************

The story is over now, and you've all been very good and quiet, and some of you have been remarkably pretty, so it's time to close the book and tiptoe away on tender little mouse feet. What's that? You want to know _more_ about what happened? Well, all right.

The next volume of Howard's memoirs came out, called _Mutiny on the High Seas: How I Battled Pirates and Found Love While Cast Away on a Desert Isle_. Hamilton Cork was terribly pleased, as it was the first of Howard's books to become a bestseller. Mr Cork thought they could cash in further by having Vince write something, and that was how he became the author and illustrator of the _Charlie_ series, which have become classic children's picture books about the adventures of a bright pink sea monster and his best friend, Davy Jones.

Howard and Vince didn't understand why, or how he got their address, but Frank Zappa never failed to send them free copies of each of his albums, and they quite became fans.

Howard and Vince spent every winter in their cottage on the cliffs, and over time they redecorated and even bought one or two modern conveniences. Howard always said that Vince took care of him while they were at sea, and it was his turn to take care of Vince on land, so he did the cooking and kept the cottage shipshape. He often took Vince shopping in the nearest big town, insisting on the best quality for all Vince's clothes, shoes, make-up, and jewellery. Occasionally Howard took him to the cinema, or dancing, or out to dinner.

Sometimes Vince wore a dress, or a skirt and jumper, and sometimes trousers and a blouse, or jeans and a jersey. Sometimes he wore make-up, and other times didn't bother. Sometimes he dyed his hair black, or red, or grew it long, or tied it up in bunches. The villagers said what a striking girl the captain had brought home as his wife, and rather charming as well. Vincentia, that was an old-fashioned name and a bit unusual, wasn't it? But always called Vince, so simple and easy. Quite a modern girl, really.

There were walks on the beach together under grey skies, collecting driftwood, and Vince painted lots of pictures to put on the cottage's walls. They went fishing, and Vince brought home plenty of cod and whiting for Howard to turn into fish and chips, fish pie, fish cakes, and fish curry. At night, they curled up together in front of the fire under a thick blanket, and that was their favourite time of all. It didn't matter whether they cuddled, or snogged, or had some stress relief, or deflowered each other ... as long as they were together, Vince said.

At the end of every day they climbed the stairs to their bedroom, and got into their huge brass bed which took up most of the room. Vince liked to look out the window so they could see the stars, and Howard liked to kiss his wife goodnight; on his forehead, on his nose, on his cheek, and then finally on his lips. In winter there could be wild storms and high winds, but they snuggled under their warm quilts, safe in each other's arms, and each morning they woke to the sound of gulls, and fresh salt breezes, and the waves below them.

But when spring came around it was time to put to sea again, and they sailed on _The Boosh_. Howard didn't make millions of pounds, but his voyages never failed, and he hired Naboo's best mate Pete as deck hand, since he couldn't have a cabin boy any more. And they sailed the world and saw islands and reefs and lagoons and giant squid and mermaids and whirlpools and sea monsters. Every day was an adventure, and every night a rapture, and Vince eventually learned the names of all the constellations.

The only thing left to tell you is the strange fate of Marcus Hoffman, whose jeweller's shop was robbed and then burned down by arsonists, only to find that his insurance policy didn't cover either of those things, and his wife got fed up with this financial incompetence and left him for a rich tourist. Marcus had none but ill luck, a suffering which was mercifully cut short when he was suddenly killed in a speed boat accident.

The whereabouts of the Egg of Mantumbi is currently unknown, nor can I can tell you if it ever existed, and wasn't just a legend like King Arthur and the Loch Ness Monster and shops that stay open late on Sundays. I bet Davy Jones knows, though, because he knows everything that's in the sea and on the sea and under the sea. The Egg might even be in his Locker.

But don't go looking for it, will you? Because life's real treasure can be found in true friendship and a loving heart. Besides, these legendary gemstones are usually more trouble than they are worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pennsylvania is inland, but it does have a coastline on Lake Erie, so I presume the Pirates of Pennsylvania operate on the lake. In real life, the Great Lakes had some truly fearsome pirates, and you can still get them today. Although it seems doable to reach the ocean via the Delaware .... so, I dunno. Ask Dee! Or anyone else who knows what they're talking about. 
> 
> Billy Ocean's story basically follows that of the real life R&B singer and pop star, who came to Britain from Trinidad as a child, and was a teenager during the 1960s. It was in this decade that he began his career, but didn't have much success to begin with. He did better during the 1970s, and peaked in the 1980s, with his greatest hit being "Caribbean Queen". He never worked in an aquarium – that was a joke by Vince in the show as to how he got his stage name (it's really after a football team in Trinidad, Ocean's 11). 
> 
> Port Starboard on Great Fowl Island is based on Cockburn Town, the capital of Grand Turk Island. It does have a library, but not an aquarium. The international airport is JAGS McCartney, not Paul McCartney. 
> 
> The Law of the Sea allowing men to marry after 90 days at sea does have a real precedent. When sexual contact between men was illegal in Britain, there was a loophole – it was permitted once men had been at sea for 90 days, hence many jokes and stereotypes about naval life. This historical factoid has always amused me, so I decided to take it to its logical conclusion.
> 
> The story is accurate regarding marriage laws in Britain in the 1960s – you could marry as early as 16 with parental approval, but had to wait until you were 21 and a full adult otherwise. You are free to believe Vince is literally 21, but I think he's actually 2-3 years older than that. I doubt Howard and Vince's marriage was legal, but don't think that matters or that they'd be bothered. It's quite a traditional marriage with Vince as Howard's wife, but that's how it was always set up on the show – and Julian joked that he and Noel had a relationship like an old-fashioned marriage.
> 
> The village and cottage are basically fictional, but I pictured them being somewhere between the port towns of Poole and Weymouth, on the Dorset coastline. Howard and Vince might have shopped and had outings in either of these towns, or possibly Bournemouth. There's no real reason for them to live in a country cottage, except that Julian always seemed so keen for he and Noel to be in one that I couldn't help but oblige. There's no symbolism to the garden plants, which are chosen for being suitable for the coast, low maintenance, and looking nice in early autumn – except the Michaelmas daisies, which are also a little nod to Noel's brother, Mike.


End file.
